Erosion
by mojor
Summary: "I'm feeling anything but invincible at the moment. Tonight was one close call too many, Castle." ... Having survived a night of far too many close calls Kate realises she's come farther than she thought. This is a journey beyond the wall. COMPLETE
1. prologue

Here's another actiony crime fic- because that's the way i roll ;) I started writing this before Pandora and while i suppose it could still fit anywhere in season 4 i'm thinking prior to that mindbogglingly amazing two-parter would be a safer place to put this.

Huge thanks to Trish for reading through the first bunch of chapters and helping me to get it somewhat more organised! Ta, ta, ta, ta!

I'm a fair way in front of what's posted (just making sure i keep things straight before uploading) but it is still unfinished. They turned into mushy fluff-balls and I kept writing so I'm not sure where i'm going with it! LOL! But i'm amusing myself and keeping out of trouble so it's all good. And I intend to write often and update frequently so it's not going to be a long drawn-out epic.

I'm always up for comments and feedback (whatever your opinion), and also happy to chat cos now i'm on twitter mojordreaming. And as wonderful as updates and favourites are, i gotta admit reviews are TOTALLY so much fun, and knowing someone is enjoying reading really adds motivation when i'm sitting in front of the laptop thinking 'what the hell am I doing?'.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Prologue<p>

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><p>With their plates long empty and the comfortable silence stretching between them Castle recognised the shift of her body and knew she was gathering herself to make a move and head home.<p>

The warmth of the apartment and her full belly made it almost impossible to shift herself off the couch, but with a resigned sigh Beckett stood up. With a similar lack of enthusiasm Castle followed her.

Her gait was without her usual vigour as she headed to the door and reached for her boots. Castle watched as she leaned against the wall and pulled them on. Dressed in his too-large sweatpants and one of Alexis' hoodies, and her hair pulled back in a loose ponytail, she looked far more vulnerable than he was accustomed to seeing her. He waited while she gathered up the folded pile of her clothes, fresh from the dryer, and then held out her coat. She slipped one arm in and turned a slow circle as he wrapped it around her. He fought the urge to bring her in against him for a hug.

Instead he pulled the sides of her coat across her stomach and reached for the belt. She fought off a yawn, and Castle rested his hand at her waist when she wobbled on her feet.

"Are you sure you're okay to drive?" he asked quietly.

"Mmmm, I'm fine, Castle," she let out a tired sigh, "I just want to get home and sleep until I absolutely have to get up."

"Text me when you get home so I know you're safe. Please?" He'd already made the offer of his guest bed, but he was tempted to make it again.

Her hand lay briefly on his chest and the lack of strength in her did little to reassure him despite the brave smile she offered. The smile turned into another yawn. When Castle followed automatically with a yawn of his own they both chuckled quietly.

"Sleep well, Castle. I'll see you tomorrow." His solid warmth called to her, and she was past thinking as her hand drifted up over the curve of his shoulder towards his neck.

She was moving up towards him, her eyes closed, before he had a chance to realise her intention. Her mouth settled over his – the gentle press of lips – her mouth closing around his top lip with a slight increase of pressure before pulling away.

Castle felt the world shift under his feet and, as she stepped back, his body sought to follow her; he wanted nothing more than to hold her against him and kiss her again. The catch of her breath reminded him to breathe.

She groaned, annoyed at herself, "I'm sorry, Castle, I must be more tired than I thought." She dropped her head and started to step away. With her heart skipping in her chest she felt light and euphoric; another surge of adrenaline through her already exhausted and sleep-deprived body.

"Kate?" One hand moved to wrap lightly around her back, not restraining her but urging her to stay close. "It's okay." He tried to reassure her.

"I wasn't thinking." The goodnight kiss had felt all too natural. Even now she wanted nothing more than to collapse against him.

Castle slid one hand against her cheek and lifted her face. He was amazed that she allowed the intimate touch. "You're exhausted. Just stay here."

The low timbre of his voice threatened to draw her in. "I can't," she resisted, but even to herself her voice sounded uncertain. The gentle caress of his thumb across cheekbone had her fighting to keep her eyes open, and she pushed away to untangle herself from his touch. "I'll see you later?"

Castle battled with himself. They'd both been on edge for a solid twenty-four hours; running on nothing but adrenaline and coffee. He was fighting to stay on his feet and she looked ready to collapse. He wished he could give in to his own desire to just wrap her in his arms and reassure himself that they were both okay. But he knew too well how quickly she would withdraw if she felt her balance threatened.

Her kiss, so impulsive and unexpected, revealed more than anything else that the barrier she worked so hard at maintaining between them was wavering , at least for tonight, and that her body sought comfort in his presence just as he did in hers.

He hesitated for an instant, afraid of forcing her to retreat further, but the grey shadows under her eyes made up his mind.

"No," his voice was gentle but he wasn't negotiating any longer, "We've had a hell of a night, Beckett." His hands were already untying her coat.

"Castle, don't." Despite her protest there was no strength in her voice.

His hands stilled, but he didn't let go of her belt. "I'm not going to have us survive an armed ambush, being abducted, an exploding boat, and the freezing waters of the Atlantic only to have you wrapped around a streetlight because you fell asleep on the way home. Sometimes it's okay to admit that you're not invincible; that you need something."

"I'm feeling anything but invincible at the moment. Tonight was one close call too many, Castle."

###


	2. Chapter 1  Ambush

Erosion  
>Chapter 1- Ambush<p>

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><p><em>The previous day...<em>

_###_

The wind blew across the open lot. Empty candy wrappers, caught in the breeze, skittered across the asphalt and drew their attention. Alert for any movement they scanned the shadows.

"It's clear," Esposito said, just loudly enough to be heard by his teammates.

Beckett could make out his outline and the light patch of his shirt against the corner of the building but it was too dark for hand signals. "You and Ryan go in from here, Castle and I will head around the side."

The two men whispered agreements and Beckett reached out behind her, finding her partner, and they shuffled backwards together out of the litter-scattered alleyway.

Another gust of wind blew in from the docks bringing the scent of brine and diesel, the clank of chains and crash of unsecured shutters.

"What was that?" Castle asked, coming to a sudden halt.

"Just the wind?"

"No, I heard voices."

"From where?" Beckett asked, tilting her head to listen, "Could it have been Ryan and Espo?"

"Nah," he held his hand up and his wide eyes scanned the darkness as he listened again, "It's gone now. It was from the other side of the lot, around the container yard maybe."

"Keep behind me, Castle. We'll head around the side."

He stood to one side and, with a surge of impotent frustration, let his partner go first. He kept up a constant scan of their surroundings to make up for his inability to take point.

The evening was alive with noise and it covered the sound of their approach. Away from the protection of the alley the wind tugged at them, and Beckett's hair whipped around her face. After watching her flick her head twice to clear her vision Castle called a quiet, "wait!" and he gestured vaguely at her head before just taking a handful of her hair and smoothing it into a rough pony tail.

"What are you doing?" she hissed at him.

"You can't see a thing. Let me stuff it down your shirt."

"Just hurry up, Castle," she said through gritted teeth.

Castle ignored her and took her lack of outright protest as promising. He gathered the ends and twisted it before poking her hair down the neck of her shirt. He thought he could have done a decent job at braiding it for her – he'd had plenty of practice with Alexis, after all – but it would have meant risking all kinds of bodily threats from her so he made do with getting it out of her eyes.

"You done?" she huffed.

"Yeah, you're good."

She turned away with an eye roll, and the hint of a grin, and scanned the dark shadows of the storeroom windows for any sign of movement.

The building on the edge of the container yard remained dark and appeared unoccupied, and Beckett was starting to wonder if they'd come to the wrong place, or if perhaps the suspects had somehow been informed of their presence.

They had expected to interrupt a meeting between a local motorcycle gang and the head of Kharmaj Imports. Following the murders of three Moroccan immigrants they'd uncovered suggestions that they were involved in some form of smuggling operation out of Morocco. Yet the exchange of money was minimal and no one was talking. With details too vague to enlist the help of the DEA they'd hoped tonight would provide them with more information.

The pair moved steadily around the redbrick building and crossed into a more open laneway lit at the far end by a wall-mounted bulb. The path gleamed black and silver from the recent rain.

"You hear anything?" Beckett asked.

"No. Are we going inside?"

"Not yet. We'll come around to the side, see if there are any vehicles near the office."

Castle had a bad feeling about the whole situation and he gave a brief thought to the phone call Gates had had with the DEA earlier in the day; they'd send in backup if the detectives discovered any evidence of drug smuggling.

Waiting until _after_ they had the evidence seemed a little too late. The thick silence under the howl of the wind twisted his gut. In one of his books the gloom of the dock, the constant clatter of chains and rhythmic pounding of wind-blown detritus would have been a perfect prelude to all kinds of evil-doing.

It felt like any moment that men wearing long colourful dresses and turbans would jump out of the shadows with guns waving and yelling in Moroccan... what did Moroccan sound like anyway? A wooden bang sounded behind him and he glanced over his shoulder expecting to see their drug smugglers in action. It took an extra second, and their jeans and leather jackets, to convince him it wasn't his imagination.

"Beckett!" he called just before they started shouting.

She turned and pointed her glock down the alleyway. Castle flattened himself against the wall.

"NYPD. Put down your weapons!" she called, and then waited to see if they would run or go on the offensive.

The two men closed to within ten yards of them and Beckett shouted again for them to stop.

"You think we didn't know you'd come?" the man in front sneered.

Long shadows on the road caught Castle's attention and he looked towards the end of the building. Another man stood just in front of the lightbulb with a semi-automatic trained on them.

"There's another one forty feet behind you; end of the laneway," he said, just loudly enough for Beckett to hear.

Beckett looked frantically for a way out. Ryan and Esposito were far enough away that a shout might not be heard over the wind. Gunfire would, but it would also cause a reaction from the men that had them surrounded.

She took a step closer to Castle, and turned her back towards the wall. She risked a quick look over her shoulder. That break in concentration was clearly all the men were waiting for and they closed the distance between them in a heartbeat.

Beckett heard Castle yelling and she swung her weapon around. The burly suspect had his arm raised to strike at Castle; she fired once in defence – her aim instinctive.

She knew she'd hit him in the same instant that her skull erupted in a burst of pain and light, and she lost consciousness.

Castle had just enough time to throw himself over his partner before he, too, felt a crushing impact against the back of his head and his vision dimmed.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i think there should be more 'throwing themselves over their partner' type moments on the show... just, ya know, to keep the other one safe and all. Like in the car trunk and shielding her from a hail of bullets? That would have worked so much better without that HUGE six inches of space between them.


	3. Chapter 2 Tied Up

Thanks to Trish (deandreamer) and to Madsthenerdygirl for feedback and edits!

and to Marlowe et al for creating these amazing characters

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><p><strong>Erosion <strong>

Chapter 2- Tied Up

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><p>Beckett came awake to a throbbing behind her eyes and the taste of blood in her mouth. She felt the tight bindings around her wrists and ankles, and memory came instantly. She fought the instinct to lash out and instead extended her senses trying to determine if she were alone.<p>

She was blindfolded and sitting with her back against a wall. The ground was cold beneath her and the room smelt of mould and old leather. There was movement beside her; faint shuffling and quiet, but ragged, breathing. Muffled, and at a distance, she could still hear the gusting wind and the sounds of the dock; they'd not been taken far.

She focused her attention on the sounds of movement beside her. Was it a guard? Or was Castle with her? When she decided the muffled grunts sounded familiar she risked whispering his name.

The shuffling stopped straight away, "Beckett? Oh, thank god. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, sore head, but good. You?"

"Ribs are a bit tender, and I think they knocked me over the head. I'm tied up. Are you?"

"Hands and feet, and I'm blindfolded." She pressed her ankles together and then twisted her hip to the wall to feel for her holster, "My weapon's gone."

"They got my cell phone too."

"You realise your phone is not actually a weapon, don't you?"

"Ah, all depends on how you use it, Detective."

Castle started again on tugging and rolling his hands over the metal frame that he was tied to.

"What are you doing?" Beckett asked after a moment.

"Trying to loosen the knot."

"Getting anywhere?"

"Maybe. It might be looser. What are you anchored to?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you tied to anything?"

"No, I have the wall at my back." She extended her legs and felt around her.

"Can you shuffle over here?"

She lifted her joined hands over her head and felt around herself. The wall was smooth, and the space above her head was clear. She realised she was no longer wearing her flak vest. "Hang on. I want to see if I can get this blindfold off."

She ran her fingers awkwardly around the back of her head to locate the bindings. She tugged the back and worked at her forehead with the tops of her arms at the same time. It didn't loosen, and she ran her fingers back around it. She noted the smooth glide of the blindfold against her skin and cursed.

"What?" Castle asked.

"I think they've duct taped the blindfold on."

"That's gonna hurt like a bitch to come off."

"I'm not going to complain so long as it does come off." She gave up on the covering and started shuffling towards her partner by wriggling her butt across the concrete. Her feet made contact first and Castle sighed in relief at the nudge.

"See if you can work on this knot," he said, jiggling his hands despite neither of them being able to see it.

Beckett lifted her arms in the air and reached towards his voice. She found his shoulder and squeezed her fingers around him. He immediately shuffled his legs sideways to press their lengths together and they sat facing each other.

Beckett ran her hands down his elbow and followed his forearms up again to where they were suspended in the air. She moved straight over his hands and then up along the cold metal frame that he was tied to. She gave it a gentle pull, and then another harder one. It didn't budge.

"I tried that," Castle protested.

"Yeah, I know. I'm going to pull myself up, see if I can work out where we are."

With her bound hands linked together she extended her arms and heaved herself up. Hopping on her joined feet she adjusted her weight and slid her grip up higher on the railing. The metal continued straight up above her head with hooks and holes spaced along its length. There was nothing branching off from it. She let go briefly to extend her arms in a semi circle to feel around them. Nothing.

Lowering herself back to the ground she took up her position, legs alongside her partners, and slid her hands down the rail until she found Castle's hands. She closed hers around his for a moment, and Castle responded by hooking his fingers around hers; mutually reassuring with the contact and warming both their cold fingers. She allowed them no more than a few seconds before releasing her hold and fumbling lower to work on the knot.

The rope was smooth and it slipped repeatedly against her fingers. She stuck her hands between her knees to warm them for a moment before trying again.

"Can you get it?" Castle asked.

"I'm trying. Hang on." She wasn't sure if she'd be able to loosen it. She couldn't get a feel for the shape of the knot and her fingers were numb from the cold and reduced circulation. She fumbled again for another minute, growing more frustrated.

"We're still at the docks," Castle said to distract her. "I'm guessing we're in a storeroom or something. Was there a lower level? It feels insulated somehow."

"Could be a shipping container."

Castle went quiet for a moment, thinking. "Modified, maybe. We're on concrete."

"You're right though, it does feel like we're further removed from the storm." With a sigh, Beckett dropped her hands to her lap, "I can't get the knot. My fingers won't grip and I can't get under the rope."

"Use your teeth."

"My teeth?"

"Can you kneel up close enough? You could bite at it."

Unfortunately it wasn't a bad idea, "Don't foxes chew their own paws off when trapped?"

"Could we stick to chewing at the rope for now?"

"I'll do my best," she taunted him, and tugged on the railing to hoist herself onto her knees.

She resisted the temptation to bite at his fingers and tried to feel around the knot for a loop that she might be able to get undone. His fingers poked in her face as she tried to find a way to get her teeth over the loosest part of the knot.

"Can you get your fingers out of my ear?"

He mumbled an apology and linked his fingers together, "Better?" Without his sight he was reduced to pure sensation and her warm breath on his cold wrists, the gasps she made as she nudged against him, was pure distraction.

"Might be easier from the other side so your wrist bends away," she mused aloud and felt around the knot with her fingers again. The only flex in the knot was where she was already working. "No, wait, I'll try again."

Castle ignored the cramping pain in his wrists and hips, the ache of his ribs and pounding in his head and focused instead on the tickle of her hair against his fingers and her mouth so close to his skin. It could be altogether pleasant in different setting.

"We can't seem to manage this without a considerable downside to the whole situation," he said, hoping to lighten the mood.

"What's that?" she asked around her grunts and puffs at his wrist.

"You have to admit there's a certain appeal in our predicament..."

"A certain appeal?" Beckett sat back, and if it wasn't for the blindfold she'd have levelled a glare at him.

"If only we could ignore the crazy gunmen and the concrete prison. Why are there always crazy gunmen?"

"We were knocked unconscious, bound, and we're being held by drug running murderers and you're dreaming up some crazy bondage scenario for Nikki and Rook?"

"Hey,_ I_ never mentioned bondage! I was just saying..." Castle realised he wasn't going to get the laugh he was hoping for and tried to change the subject, "Nevermind. How's the knot coming?"

"Mmmm." She sounded unimpressed. Castle cursed the blindfold that prevented him from seeing if she were truly pissed at him.

Beckett knelt over him and lowered her teeth to his wrist, "This would work_ so _much better if only one of us were tied up and blindfolded." She smiled into the resulting silence.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- I'm not sure how Castle stands all the innuendo... i would have just spontaneously combusted months ago.


	4. Chapter 3 Escape

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 3- Escape<p>

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><p>It felt like hours, but was probably closer to thirty minutes later when the rope binding Castle's wrists finally loosened. Beckett's jaw was cramped, her bottom lip felt scraped raw, and her lower legs had long since fallen asleep. She almost cried in relief when Castle was able to wiggle at the rope enough to slip his hands free.<p>

With a pained groan he rolled his shoulders and straightened his back before reaching out to grab at his partner.

"Let me get yours," he offered, his hands searching for hers.

"No, work on your legs and your blindfold first."

He growled his frustration at her but did as she asked. He rubbed his hands together and stuck them under his armpits to restore circulation before tugging at the tape around his head.

Beckett started working on the restraints at her ankles despite her limited movement. It was only a few minutes later when Castle's cry of victory echoed in the room.

"I got the end of it!" he said, excitedly. Beckett could hear the tape pulling free from itself, and then silence.

"Have you got it?"

"I can't tell if there's cloth on my eyes?"

"What?"

"It doesn't feel like there is tape on my skin, but I can't feel any fabric around the edges."

"For god sake, Castle, just rip the damn thing off!"

"Fine, but if I lose my eyebrows I'm gonna blame you." He grabbed the tape and tugged in a hard loop around his head. It pulled at his skin and he let out a yelp. "It's okay!" he almost laughed with his relief, "It's like sticky plaster! There's a gauze pad underneath."

"Castle!" she growled at him, "Just untie me!"

"Sorry," he looked around the room quickly, assessing the situation, while he made quick work of the rope at his ankles and then focused on his partner, "The room is pretty much bare, about twenty feet square, one window, one door." He started on her blindfold first, "The door is blank on this side, but the window is just glass sheeting. There's a pallet in the corner with a pile of boxes on it. And another five poles like this one, two rows of three... maybe they had shelves or something on them." He managed to flick a corner of the tape free with his fingernail and started peeling the blindfold off.

Beckett tried to build a mental picture of the room, but it was enough to know that they were somewhat safe and were alone – for now.

"Almost there," he said, encouragingly, and didn't pause as he unwrapped the blindfold.

She shook her head free the minute the pressure came off her eyes and let out a groan of pleasure. With her sight back Beckett felt almost instantly less on edge. She reassured herself that her partner was in one piece and then shuffled around to look across the rest of the room.

The ceiling was high, too high for it to be a shipping container, and a globe hung suspended from a wire in the centre of the room.

Castle stepped over her so she could face the door while he worked on her bindings. He shook out his legs and then knelt again.

"You've got a nasty bruise on your forehead," he said, his fingers skimming over the purple gash above her eyebrow.

"It doesn't feel too bad," she dismissed it.

Castle took another look at it and decided she was probably right. The ropes at her wrists and ankles came undone quickly and he rubbed at her lower legs to get the blood flowing.

"I got it," she said, replacing his hands with her own and massaging her calves and ankles.

"You good?" he asked, and waited only for her to nod before he grabbed her under her armpits to help boost her to her feet.

They stood with his hands on her sides and her hands gripping tight to his upper arms for several seconds. Without speaking they reassured each other that everything was fine; they were both okay, and they'd find a way out. Those moments of shared comfort were enough to bolster their spirits and they surprised themselves with a laugh.

"Ready?" Beckett asked, the first to step away.

They moved together to the side wall and edged up close to the window. It was high off the ground but she could reach the bottom corner. The glass was dark and Beckett tried to see through to the other side. Either it had been painted black or it was dark on the other side. She reached up and gave the bottom sill a nudge, and heard the top ledge bang against a lock.

Castle grabbed the wooden pallet from the corner and dragged it over to the window. Beckett crossed to the door. The door knob had been removed and the surface was flat. She gave it a quiet shove and it didn't budge.

She waited while Castle got the pallet in position and then stood on it to gain the extra height he needed to reach above the timber frame. There was a simple latch and he swung it around to unlock the window.

"You want to open it?" he asked.

"Can you hear anything?"

He took another moment to listen even though he'd heard nothing so far, "Nothing."

"Okay. You open it, straight up."

"Got it." He positioned himself so that he could lift the frame but stay covered by the wall. "On three."

Beckett stood on the opposite side of the window and waited for his count. As the panel lifted she spun on her tiptoes to look outside. The window opened onto a hallway. Fluorescent tube lights glowed a muted yellow and were surrounded by insects. The hallway continued in both directions and the wind was channelling along it from the right.

"Just a hallway, but I think there must be a door opened to the outside," Beckett said.

"We going through?"

"Any other ideas?"

"Nope. I'm all for finding a way out."

Castle turned the wooden pallet on its side to form a couple of precarious steps, "I'll boost you up," he explained.

"No, you go first. If you can balance on the sill you'll be able to pull me up after you."

Castle tested his weight on the thin wooden strips and wrapped his hands around the window. He boosted himself up and Beckett grabbed behind his knee to push. He got half way up, with one elbow hooked onto the frame, and hung there. He scraped against the wall with his shoe trying to find purchase.

"Go again," Beckett encouraged him, "push off my shoulders." She turned around and pressed her back against the wall. Grabbing his feet she nudged them up so his heels rested on her shoulders and she crouched down at the same time. With her hands either side of his thighs to steady him she pressed her weight into the floor and he pushed up at the same time.

"Nice!" He gasped, as he landed on his belly over the window ledge.

He spun his body around and, draped over the sill, reached down to pull Beckett up. They wrapped their hands around the other's forearms and Beckett placed one foot on the pallet.

With a countdown from three she launched herself up with a jump and grabbed one-handed for the ledge while pulling hard on Castle's arm.

She got her chest to the sill but had no balance to pull up onto it.

"I got it! Can you grab onto me and let go of my arm?" Castle said quickly.

He was already reaching down and by grabbing a fistful of her coat in one hand he reached his other hand between her legs, gripped her awfully high on the inner thigh, and pulled.

"Jesus Christ, Castle!" Beckett squawked in shock, and she barrelled head first through the window and tumbled onto the ground below.

"Sorry! Sorry." He looked over his shoulder at her as she got to her feet. "Are we good?"

Beckett tugged on his foot hard and pulled him down, off balance, to join her. "Just get down and let's go."

She didn't wait for him to answer, but took off down the hall.

###

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><p>.<p>

**A/N- **

List of requirements for this fanfic

* create gratuitous opportunity for Castle to cop a feel - check!


	5. Chapter 4 A Way Out?

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 4- A Way Out?<p>

* * *

><p>The hallway ended with five steps up to the open storehouse. They could hear voices echoing across the empty garage. The side of the building where they stood was brick, but the garage area was double-story high with steel frame sides and roof. Five metal girders ran the length of the room with pulleys and chains descending from every beam. With the exception of the white panelvan and a long wooden table the entire storehouse was vacant.<p>

Beckett took a few slow steps up and tried to see in front of the van. The two leather clad men were at the table and they were taking it in turns catching white brick-sized bundles that were being thrown from the van and then packing them into yellow crates. The crates looked like they were made out of inflatable floatation devices. On the ground at their feet were a pile of assault-rifle magazines and several large plastic bags that must have held thousands of rounds.

She turned to Castle and ushered him back down the stairs and away from the open doorway.

"There are three that I can see. They're definitely running drugs and ammo."

"We should put that call into Davidson now then," he joked.

"I can't figure out why Ryan and Esposito wouldn't have already called it in. This place should be swarming with cops by now."

"You think they're being held here somewhere as well?"

"Wouldn't hurt to check. I can't see any way out up here; we'd never get to the exit without being spotted."

"Head back along the hallway?"

"Yeah." She stepped back up the stairs as far as she could without being seen to watch the men again for a moment. Two of the yellow inflatable crates had been filled and placed on the ground and they were working on another pair.

"They've got to be planning on shipping them out tonight," Castle whispered from the stairs beside her.

"I don't understand how they're getting them past customs. If it's going out in the containers everything is inspected."

"A guy on the inside? And what's with those floating boxes? Do you think they're towing them somewhere? Oh, could they be mounted on the outside of a freighter?" Castle looked intrigued.

"I don't know how waterproof they'd be," Beckett mused.

She felt Castle move away and she followed him back down the stairs. They moved quickly down the hallway back past the window to the room where they'd been held and further along to another door. They stood either side of the door and Beckett twisted the knob. Once the latch was free she nudged it open with her foot and stepped back away from the opening.

The room was a working office; desk, lamp, blotter pad, low couch, file cabinets.

"You want to have a look around?" Castle questioned.

"Not now. We're not going to find anything here in relation to the murders. I'm more concerned about the boys being down here somewhere." Beckett started to pull the door closed.

"Wait," Castle stepped forward, "Is there a phone?" He stepped in and looked around the office, opening drawers. There was no desk phone and the wall jack was empty. "Nothing," he said, frustrated.

He was glad Alexis wasn't due back from the Catskills until tomorrow and she wouldn't be at home worried over his safety yet again.

"Come on," Beckett encouraged him with a small smile and her hand on his arm, before tilting her head to indicate the hallway.

They moved together, pausing at the corner, edging around slowly, and then continued to the next door; it was a narrow bathroom, just a toilet and a small hand basin.

Castle turned a hopeful look in Beckett's direction.

"Fine, but I'm going first," she said, pushing him out of the way and closing the door.

###

Beckett closed the last of the doors onto yet another barren room and shook her head, "Nothing."

"Then let's head back upstairs," he suggested. With no exits from the lower level and no sign of Ryan or Esposito they were only wasting precious time.

They moved quickly back along the hallway and a sudden shout had them pressed against the wall. The loud slamming of doors and raised voices echoed from around the turn in the corridor.

"They're looking for us," Beckett whispered. Her hand slipped to her hip, automatically searching for her weapon, and she cursed at both her forgetfulness and at being without her gun.

"Where to?" He asked, anxiously.

"The bathroom?"

"Go, go!"

The doorway was only a few steps behind them and the voices were coming their way.

They shuffled in, almost tripping over each other in the cramped space, bolted the door, and leaned their backs against it. They both strained to hear what was happening outside over the sounds of their breathing and the pump of blood in their ears.

The voices were arguing over whether or not they had time to look for them. A shout, far-too-close, called out that they had to be on the water before midnight. Another yelled in reply about running out of time.

Did that mean it was almost midnight? Or were they allowing for time to get to a vessel? Beckett guessed that in either scenario it was around eleven. They'd separated from Ryan and Esposito around eight o'clock, so they'd been unconscious, possibly drugged, for a couple of hours; it made the fact that neither the NYPD nor drug squad had been called in even more confusing.

They were jolted against the door as someone rammed into it from the corridor.

"Castle," Beckett's voice was hoarse; her throat tight. "There's nowhere else to escape to."

"I know! Listen, they didn't kill us when they had the chance before. Maybe we can talk our way out of this." He tried to inject some enthusiasm into his voice. There might not be anything he could do to get her out, but at least he could be there for moral support.

"You think?"

The door pounded behind them once more. They planted their feet and pressed back against; hands splayed, shoulders forced hard into the wood. Castle turned his head, and Beckett mirrored him, until they were staring at each other; eyes wide and desperate.

"It's either that or the toilet brush."

"The what?"

"You think you can do any damage with that?" he nodded to the previously-white toilet brush in the corner. It was stained orange and brown and looked almost lethal.

"You have my vote for the talking."

The door shuddered and they heard the lock give. Their feet slipped and they scrambled together to hold it shut.

"Step back from the door, detectives, or we'll shoot you with your own weapon." The man's voice rumbled, angry, from the other side of the door.

Castle and Beckett exchanged glances; silently agreeing to step away as one.

Castle stood in front of his partner and, with his hand angled behind him to find her hip, he inched them both back away from the door, "The door's clear," he called out.

"Castle!" Beckett's voice was harsh in his ear, "Move over before they open it," she said urgently, pushing him to try to step around him but finding herself wedged between the toilet and his body.

"You're not the one holding the gun tonight, Kate."

"Neither are you! Move over!"

With a sudden kick the door flew open, hit the wall, and bounced back to slam shut. Castle caught a glimpse of a solid man in black leather and a scarf, gun raised, before he was hidden from view again.

"We're going to need your bad-ass skills later, I got this one," he said, his voice calm despite the fact that his heart hammered crazily in his chest.

The door swung open again, more slowly this time, to reveal two men. A shorter man – athletic looking with a blond buzz-cut – stood behind the muscle with the gun, and he spoke as soon as he had their attention.

"You're going to come with us, without difficulties, or he will shoot you. Is that understood?"

"Yeah, understood. Without difficulties," Castle agreed, his hands held non-threateningly and wide at his sides, "That's not a problem. We're happy to help." He smiled, and gave a little nod; the picture of affability.

Beckett poked him from behind, "Don't overdo it."

They stepped out from the bathroom, and Buzz-Cut grabbed Castle by the arm, shoving him roughly against the wall. Beckett tried to step towards him only to be shoved back into the bathroom by the gun wielding behemoth.

Castle called for her, but with a heel punch to the centre of his chest he was pushed back again.

"What did we agree on?" their captor said, coldly.

Castle watched, powerless, while both his hands and Beckett's were tied once again. The other guy had her up against the wall with his body pressed far too close and one knee angling into the muscle of her thigh. Beckett's glare was pure ice. When his partner was shoved out to join him in the hallway the tightness in his belly released. He locked his eyes on hers and tried to promise her he wouldn't leave her side.

With rough hands they were propelled along the corridor; Buzz-Cut's iron grip on Castle's bicep and the guy with the gun following along, several steps behind Beckett, covering them both.

They passed the room where they'd been held and Beckett noticed that their discarded ropes had been removed, the pallet dragged back to where they'd found it, and the window pulled closed. There was no evidence of them having been in there.

They were forced up the stairs and into the storeroom and then led towards the panelvan. The crates they'd seen being packed earlier were no long visible. The third guy was already behind the wheel. The doors to the van stood open and they were marched around the back.

Castle wasn't keen on the idea of being moved; changing location meant even less chance of being found, but at least they hadn't been shot. He had just enough time to feel relieved by that thought, when a fist sped rapidly towards his eyes and then he didn't feel much of anything at all.

Beckett watched while her partner was thrown, unceremoniously, into the van.

"Now, are you going to climb in? Or do we have to break your nose as well?"

As badly as she wanted to fight back, Beckett climbed quietly into the van. She crawled over to Castle and clumsily rolled him onto his back. Blood trailed from his nose across his cheek, and she ran her fingers along the sides of his nose; checking to see if it were broken or dislocated. She couldn't tell beyond being certain that it was going to hurt like a bitch when he woke up.

The door slammed shut behind her, and the light in the cab was reduced to grey shadows. The soft inflatable crates were stacked around the edge of the van, and she found a comfortable corner and leaned against them. She half-lifted Castle's head up off the floor and wedged her leg under him, then she took an awkward double-handed grip on his shoulder and dragged him towards her until he was in a vaguely secure-feeling position with his head in her lap.

The van's engine started and they backed out of the garage. Beckett allowed her fingers to tangle in her partner's hair, but she didn't take her eyes off the narrow strips of window visible through the crates; studying their surroundings, looking for any clue as to what part of the docks they were in, and any avenue for escape.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- thanks HEAPS for the alerts and reviews. Makes writing so much more fun!  
>Really, everything is much more fun when you share it with someone else. Like being abducted... who'd want to do that alone? It could almost be like quality time together.<p> 


	6. Chapter 5 Abduction

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 5- Abduction<p>

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><p>There seemed to be no other vehicles on the road with them, and Beckett had to assume they were still within the run down industrial park. The van travelled slowly over several patches of uneven ground but the driver seemed to know the area well. Red light flicked across the interior of the van as they moved, but the crates filled the majority of the space around her and there was too little window visible to make out details in the darkness.<p>

They travelled for no more than a few minutes before the van came to a halt, although the engine was not turned off. The lights from outside disappeared, and then the cab lit up as the front doors opened. Beckett heard the three men leave the vehicle; only one door slammed closed and the cab light remained on.

Castle stirred in her lap, and Beckett laid her hands over his chest hoping to reassure him as he regained consciousness.

"Castle? Can you hear me?"

He moaned his reply and tried to roll over.

"Just lay still for a minute, you've been out for a little while."

"Wha'?" he grumbled and tried again to sit up, struggling against his bound hands.

She helped him this time, shuffling him up and pushing him back into the cushioned boxes around them but not breaking contact.

"We're in the van, we've just stopped. I'm pretty sure we're still within the container yard but this section seems deserted."

Castle came more alert as she spoke, his recollection of events rapidly solidifying along with the aching throb of his nose. "Are they still here?" he asked. His hands came up to his face and he couldn't resist poking gently at his nose.

"I don't think it's broken."

"Hurts." His fingers came away sticky and he looked down at them. Seeing blood he licked his lip. "The men – are they still here?" he asked again, doing his best to ignore his nose. He knew things were likely about to get far worse.

"They got out just as you came around. They haven't gone far."

From outside, the sudden roar of a motor had their attention.

"Is that a boat engine?" she asked, suddenly more concerned about their situation.

The van doors opened before he had a chance to respond. The vehicle had backed straight onto the edge of the harbour and Beckett and Castle could see coloured lights from the cranes and cargo vessels reflecting across the water of Gowanus Bay, and behind it all the night-lit cityscape.

"Ah, you're both awake." Buzz-Cut said, not looking pleased. "It would have been far easier if you had of co-operated.

"We're right on the bay already, can't we just shoot them now?" One of the leather clad gunmen asked, complaining.

"And who's going to clean it up? You want to leave a trail of cop blood right to our shed?"

"You're a moron, Cater," the other gunman chimed in.

"Just come and deal with them, Fuzzy, I'm going to go talk to our guys. Get the gear on board too." He walked away from the van, leaving the doors wide open, and Castle and Beckett watched him walk towards the water and scramble down over the man-made jumble of rocks and concrete.

At his approach, the boat engine they heard earlier revved briefly again and then died down to a low hum. A cruiser moved smoothly into view; it was somewhere around twenty-five feet long with an open rear deck and an enclosed forecabin. It sat high in the water and Castle suspected there were quarters below.

He pressed closer to his partner and said quietly, "The talking didn't seem to work earlier; might be time for plan B."

"Do you have a plan B?"

"Not so much, but I'm not keen on the idea of getting on that boat."

"That makes two of us," Beckett replied. She watched the two gunmen as they stood sideways to them, dividing their attention between their captives and the vessel.

"Our best chance is going to come while their boss is down in the water; I prefer the odds of two on two rather than waiting for whoever is down there to join them."

"Two on two with us bound and them with guns isn't going to be a lot of fun."

"I'll distract the first guy that comes; you get his weapon, and then we run for the front of the van. The engine's running – we can just jump in and drive off." Castle suggested.

"Okay."

"Okay? Really?" he asked, surprised. He really didn't think his plan sounded very feasible.

"We're running out of options here, Castle." As they spoke there were yells from the boat and the heavy-set gunman started towards them.

Castle felt his stomach twist and his heart was instantly beating at double-time.

Beckett's knee pressed into his and she said quietly, "We'll get out of this."

He didn't have time to reply, but her voice echoed in his head as he tried to come up with a workable plan to get the guy in a vulnerable position. The man was at the rear of the vehicle staring in at them before any great ideas materialised and Castle studied his body language.

He pointed his gun towards them and said calmly, "Are you going to walk down to the boat? Or do we need to get physical?"

"We can walk," Castle replied, and he placed his flattened palms on the floor of the van and twisted over onto his knees.

He started to help Beckett up, but she folded her knees into her chest and turned her head to Castle's shoulder, "Help me to the edge, I need my feet," she mumbled into his ear.

Castle stood, hunched over. His body dominated the confined space and drew the gunman's attention. He helped Beckett to shuffle within kicking distance of the man, and then he stepped sideways and balanced on the rear bumper of the panelvan.

"Can you help me down?" Castle asked, "I'm a bit dizzy." He reached his hands out towards the man.

The other man automatically extending his arm, before thinking twice and pulling it back, "Just jump," he said, and gestured to the ground.

Castle jumped, and Beckett chose that moment to kick out with her legs, connecting with the man's chest and sending him staggering backwards. Castle got his balance quickly and lunged at his legs.

He fell, and Beckett was out of the van in an instant, her joined hands grabbing for their attacker's wrists, hoping to latch onto a pressure point to weaken his grip on the gun.

Castle kept his weight on the man's legs, preventing him from standing, as Beckett wrestled for the gun.

The perp shouted out for assistance, and the other gunman was running towards them from the water's edge.

"Leave it!" Beckett yelled, "Get in the van, Castle!"

He scrambled to his feet, and Beckett aimed a solid kick at the man's groin before the two of them turned and ran to the front of the van. Beckett followed Castle, and he'd reached the driver's door just as she felt the impact on her back.

She was tackled from behind, and with her hands bound in front her balance was poor. The man's weight sent her crashing to the ground. He grabbed at her head and slammed her down; her vision dimming with the blow.

She heard Castle shouting and tried to roll away from the weight on her back. Instead, hands pressed her into the ground and she felt a scuffle at her side.

The other attacker had regained his feet and joined his companion. Between the two of them they had both Castle and Beckett subdued and were cursing at them.

"Keep it clean, Cater, but knock them out and get them on the boat. I'm not taking shit from Reynolds 'cause they kept tryin' to be smart."

Castle tried to arch his back and throw the man's weight from him. It felt like he had little to lose and getting on the boat meant certain death. The man's bulk settled over him and tried to slam his head back in a reverse head-butt, but he was too far back.

Beside him Beckett had managed to roll over. He saw her swing her joined hands in a broad arc and heard the impact on her attacker's jaw. He felt an instant of hope before a solid blow at the base of his skull sent him spiralling into darkness once more.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- What if they never escape? What if they're dumped in the ocean and never heard from again?  
>Oh, phew! that's right! there's kissing at the loft. Thank god!<p> 


	7. Chapter 6 The Boat

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 6 – The Boat<p>

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><p>Castle felt as though he were swimming against a strong current that was pulling him down; sucking him under the dark water. He tried to push up to the surface, but his limbs were weighted. He felt dizzy with his head whirling madly. His stomach churned and he fought the urge to vomit.<p>

He managed a deep breath and awareness started to return. He couldn't shake the feeling of heaviness and his vision swam despite blinking furiously to clear his head. His whole body ached.

A pained growl and movement on top of him had him pushing against the weight on his chest.

"Stop, Castle," Beckett groaned, her words slow and thick, but still he had trouble deciphering them.

He lay unmoving, and tried to sort out the jumble of sensations. He was on his back with his head at an awkward angle against something solid, his neck cramped and protested against his position. His knees were bent, feet on the ground; but the ground rolled and swayed beneath him.

Another body – Beckett's – lay draped over his chest; the weight felt heavy and restricting in the already confined space, but he tried to reach his arm up to touch her. When that failed he tried to turn his head.

"Kate?"

"The boat," she whimpered.

Castle tried to push up but he was unable to move, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Stop moving, please," her voice was strained.

Castle started to panic, "What's wrong? I can't move enough to see you." He could feel that the weight above him was soft, rather than rigid bone, and he tried to get a sense for how she lay against him.

"It's okay, Castle. When you move it pushes me into the wall." Her words were slower than usual, and she stopped to take a breath, "My hands are stuck. I can't move. I took a hit to the back of the head and I'm still faint. You did too," she reminded him, "How do you feel?"

"Woozy."

"Woozy?"

"Very woozy."

"I think woozy sounds right. I might be woozy too."

"Is that your stomach on me? I can't tell." She was all curves and warmth against him.

"Yeah. I think my arms are under your legs."

"How?"

"I don't know," she flexed her hands and elbows, "Can you feel that?"

"That's my thigh. Isn't that against the wall?" he shifted his weight, "Can you pull your arms out?"

She tugged, and her knees pressed down against the edge of his already injured ribs. He grunted, but kept his weight off her arms and twisted to give her leverage. Her forearms came free and she slumped back over him.

"Better," she panted, and flexed and rolled her joints as much as she could with the restraint still tight around her wrists. "If I try and kneel up a little can you sit up?" she asked.

"Happy to give it a shot," he agreed, although he thought he could just as happily lie there with her sprawled over him a little longer. "I still have to wonder," his voice laced with humour, "Why are there always crazy gunmen?"

"I more interested in why we always seem to be tied up," Beckett replied. Castle was sure he could sense a smile in her voice.

Not giving him any more time to enjoy their relative positions Beckett wedged her head on the wall and pushed her elbows into the tops of his thighs to push up. Once she had room underneath herself she lifted her body up off his chest. Castle had no way of manoeuvring from his prone position so he rolled onto his side and got his arms under him.

The tiny space they were in became suddenly lighter as Castle rolled away from a grate along the wall at floor level.

"What was that?" Beckett asked.

"There's a grate here, it's on the bottom of a door. I think this is a utility closet or something." He could feel Beckett's stomach and chest now where she rested against him. He looked along the length of their bodies to see how best to untangle them. "I can see where we are now. Could you get your feet under you if I rolled right over and lifted you with my back?"

"Can you roll over?"

"Yeah, hang on," he rolled and grunted, his arms slipping and neck twisting uncomfortably. "Nearly. Can you move?"

Beckett was already using his body to prop her torso up and she got her feet below her and managed to stand. Her head spun and she leaned against the wall fighting off a wave of dizziness.

"Here," Castle's hands were wrapped around her arm, "Sit back down. There's room now. It'll actually be comfy."

She chuckled at the optimism in his voice. "How do you figure it will be comfy?"

"It's the perfect width; if we sit here side-by-side we'll hold each other up." He was already lowering her back down to the floor.

He was right; with them both facing the same direction they could fit their backs to one side wall, the door and the rear wall framed them with their shoulders wedged together. The width of the closet gave them enough length for their legs to extend with only a small bend at the knee.

"That better?"

"Yeah," she let out a sigh and allowed her head to roll back into the corner. "Looks like plan B didn't come off so well."

"Have you heard any noises out there?"

"No. You think they're all on the upper deck?"

"There would be room for four up there, but it would be cold, wouldn't it?"

"We should try and force the door open."

"And go where once we do get out?"

"I don't know. But it's gotta be better than sitting in here."

"How about we take a few minutes to gather our senses? We can keep an ear out for whatever is happening out there, throw a few ideas around." Castle suggested, wanting both to come up with a clearer idea of what they were up against, and to give Beckett a chance to regain her bearings.

"What kind of ideas?"

"What are they doing with the drugs and ammo? They're working within a timeframe; one of them said they had to be on the water by midnight, right? So are they meeting up with someone out here?"

"If this is being shipped to Morocco there's no way it's going over in this boat. They must have plans to rendezvous with another vessel."

"We just left behind a dock full of cargo vessels and cruise liners they could have stashed it on..."

"But that would have been weighed and listed on a manifest. Maybe they're meeting offshore with a private vessel?"

"How long does it take to get from Manhattan into open waters?" Castle asked.

"It's only an hour by ferry down to Highlands. This cruiser would be at least as fast. That's it!" Beckett turned to Castle, her expression hopeful. "They'd have to report to the Coast Guard! All traffic in the harbour is monitored by video and radar so there would have to have a radio onboard. If we can get to it, we can call in."

"So we just need to get out of this closet, find the radio, and call the Coast Guard... without getting shot," Castle said eagerly, and only the arch of his eyebrow gave any indication of cynicism.

They both fell quiet, considering their chances and trying to come up with a better idea.

Beckett was the first to break the silence. "I don't think we should wait much longer," she stated quietly, "I don't know if it's just from being on the go since four o'clock this morning, or if I have a concussion, but I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open."

Castle covered her hands with his own and turned to face her, "Look at me," he said gently.

When Beckett turned towards him, he studied her eyes hoping to see if her pupils were the same size. It was too dark in the closet to see clearly, but she looked tired and the bruise over her forehead stood out against the pale of her skin.

"How do my eyes look?" she asked.

'Beautiful,' was all he could think of; with her eyes fixed on him, and given full permission to stare, Castle would have happily stayed stuck in the cabinet all night.

From the look on her face he suspected he might have spoken aloud. "Not entirely helpful, Castle," she replied. Her tone was firm, but she separated her hands as far as she could around the restraints to wrap their fingers together.

"No, probably not," he agreed, burrowing his hands in around hers and leaning his head back against the wall. His face throbbed with the pain from his nose. "So," he took a deep breath, "Are we ready to do this?"

"We see if we can kick the door open, then head straight for the upper deck. If you get to the radio first use my badge number and request assistance." In an instant her mind ran through a dozen scenarios; variables that might go right or wrong.

"If we can't overpower them... you want to take our chances in the water?" he asked steadily, trying to gauge her reaction.

"We wouldn't last long..." Beckett held his gaze. She didn't want to take that option unless they had to, but if they faced four armed drug dealers intent on killing them and dumping their bodies in the Atlantic then floating in the freezing waters of the Lower Bay sounded like a good deal.

"Okay, let's stand up, work out some kinks, and see how we're going to attack this door," Castle said with determination.

"You got it, partner," Beckett encouraged him with a smile and let go of his hands.

.

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><p>.<p>

A/N- Does anyone have any suggestions for a way to work out a few kinks while trapped in a closet with the person that (not so secretly) makes your belly flip? Anyone? Anyone?


	8. Chapter 7 Escape take 2

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 7 – Escape (take 2)<p>

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><p>Castle leaned over his knees and angled himself up of the ground. His muscles protested and he bit back a groan, instead he offered his joined hands to Beckett to help pull her up.<p>

"We're getting pretty good at this facing-down-death thing," he said, steadying her as she shifted her weight between her feet and found her balance with the slight roll of the boat.

"We really are," Beckett agreed,

"Face it; this would be hell with anyone else. You really do have the best partner ever."

She chuckled at his levity but she did have to admit he had a handy knack for making even the worst situations easier to deal with. "We do make a good team; me with the muscle and you with the ideas," she said, nudging him with her shoulder before leaning back into him for a moment.

She wondered briefly what it would be like to do away with the jokes and the banter and actually tell him openly how much she valued him as her partner. Instead she tapped a staccato beat against his chest with the tips of her fingers and trusted him to know.

"Don't knock the ideas man," he said, and ran his hand along the length of her arm in a tentative half-hug.

"Never," Beckett agreed. She met his gaze and they both took a long slow breath, acknowledging their mutual fear, "Let's try this." She stepped beside him to face the door.

"It's probably bolted somehow, but I doubt the door itself is all that solid."

"Then we try one kick to the lock, if that doesn't work we focus on the centre of the panel."

"Okay." They settled their weight against the wall opposite the door and planted their feet.

Beckett raised one leg to test her aim and Castle followed suit, both of them finding space to position their kicks. "On three."

They counted down together and at three they drew their legs back and pounded into the door.

The plywood splintered and the lock busted away instantly. Instead of swinging back on its hinges the door fell outwards as the narrow hinge burst away from the frame.

The two captives barrelled forwards; losing their balance at the unexpected collapse of the door. Castle grabbed onto the frame of the door. Beckett continued forward tripping over the corner of the broken door and landing in the narrow gangway.

She laughed, a series of strained chuckles, as she grimaced with the pain of the impact. She turned a smile up towards Castle, "That worked better than I thought it would," and then they were both looking along the passageway for a means of escape.

To their right was a compact galley, beyond that curved cushions ran along the sides of the boat creating a sleeping area. The room was stacked with the crates of drugs and ammunition. To their left a series of laddered stairs ran up to a closed hatch.

"The galley!" Castle grinned.

"You think we can get them off?" she asked, looking down at her restraints.

"Surely someone's been fishing on this thing. They'd have to have a decent knife..." He was already shuffling through the drawers. Beckett had her back to him; watching the closed hatch.

"Ah ha! Try this." He held up a pair of boning shears.

"Oh, thank God!" Beckett held her hands out, keeping half her attention on the hatch. Castle had the cord cut within seconds and was handing over the scissors.

Once they were free they rotated and rubbed at their wrists and lower arms. "What else is in there?" Beckett asked, hoping for a weapon. She wasn't disappointed.

With their hands free, and armed with a chef's knife and a thin-bladed filleting knife, they felt the odds increase in their favour.

"Going up?" Castle asked, grinning.

"We climb together. You open the hatch and I'll go through first."

"I'll be right behind you."

She smiled, and forcing confidence into her words replied, "I know."

They positioned themselves on the rungs with Beckett's feet one step up although she hunched over and let Castle's torso extend above her. Castle pressed his ear to the hatch and listened. As he did, the engine powered down and the boat rocked up suddenly under the bow wave. He scrambled for purchase on the railing, trying not to cut himself with the knife he'd had in one hand around the railing. Beckett threw one arm across his lower back to help anchor them both.

"What's happening?" she asked urgently, "Do you think they heard us?"

"I can hear them talking, sounds like they're shouting but I can't make out what they're saying." He looked down at the detective, "Now or never."

"Go," she said, and braced herself on the ladder.

Castle twisted the latch and cracked the portal open just enough to check that the area immediately outside was clear. He could see straight along the deck of the boat and the space was clear right to the transom. The deck was lit was a pale yellow light and the darkness beyond was absolute. The air was wet and cold and Castle fought back a shiver.

He glanced quickly down at Beckett and, with a single nod, he threw open the hatch as quietly as he could. He moved his body to give her as much space as possible on the narrow ladder, and she was up and out the hole with her feet on the deck in under a second.

The crackle of radio static caught her attention and she turned to see one of the gunmen – armed with a flagon now instead of a gun – with the radio transmitter in his other hand. He was only a few steps away with the half-cabin of the helm behind him.

He dropped the radio and reached awkwardly behind him for his weapon. She felt Castle's presence at her back and it allowed her to focus on the man before her; safe in the knowledge that another bad guy was not going to sneak up from behind.

"There's nothing stopping me from shooting you both now that we're out here," he said arrogantly, taking a step towards them.

Despite the fact that they'd slowed to little more than a sluggish putt, the boat rocked under her feet with the swell of the ocean and Beckett widened her stance to keep her balance. She risked a glance at the gun he had pointed at them – it was her own service weapon. He had the safety off and his finger was inside the guard.

Castle stepped to one side, crossing away from Beckett but keeping the deck hatch between him and the gunman, "You should have shot us when you had the chance." Their assailant diverted his aim to Castle, and both his weapon and his gaze followed him as he moved, "That's twice we've escaped from you," Castle taunted him.

Beckett slid her feet forward inch by inch, moving gradually closer with the roll of the deck.

"I don't see anyone escaping. I just see a smart-mouth pig about to take a bullet." He waved his gun as he spoke as if making his point.

Knowing his rhetoric would not last forever Beckett took advantage of his distraction and lunged. She kept low, moving under his gun, and held the chef's knife close to her body.

Time slowed and she both saw and felt his body react to her as she came in under his arm. Muzzle-flash lit the darkness and her skull reverberated with the noise of her gun firing under his command. She slammed into him, one arm reaching up to control his weapon-hand, the other bringing the knife up into his armpit.

Castle shouted, but his words were lost in the sudden heavy silence as the world grew quiet around her. Beckett pulled the knife free and her opponent's weight fell against her. She twisted her body, and her hand gripped his tight as she secured her weapon. She kicked out at him then, forcing his body away as she stepped clear and punched with her knife hand against the bones of his wrist, forcing him to release his hold. The gun came away in her hand.

She took several quick steps backwards and Castle came up behind her, his hands firm on her back; steadying her against the rock and sway of the boat.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- Is that the last of the bad dudes? Can we all get some rest now? Castle and Beckett must be exhausted! Surely they can just head home and crawl into bed...


	9. Chapter 8 The Calm Before the

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 8 – The Calm Before the...<p>

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><p>The drug runner slumped on the floor, his legs moving vainly across the deck, blood flowing freely from the deep wound below his arm.<p>

Beckett turned to look at Castle. She held his eyes and refused to look away. He was speaking to her but the words were a mumble. She watched his mouth and recognised her name and the question in his expression, 'are you hurt?'

"I'm fine," she replied, trying not to yell. "Muzzle blast. I can't hear you," she explained.

He placed his hands on her arms; moved her away from the fallen man and behind the shield of his body.

"We need to contact the Coast Guard," Beckett reminded him, the words rumbling inside her skull.

"You keep an eye on him," he said, pointing and miming at the same time to make sure he was understood. "I'll see if I can raise them on the radio."

"Let me look at the radio first. If we can, I'd rather use a channel that's not likely to be monitored by whoever these guys were meeting up with out here."

Castle kept guard while Beckett moved to the helm. She called for him after a few moments.

"Listen in with me in case I miss something?" she asked. She still held her glock loosely in her right hand, the knife beside her on the console.

Beckett called up on the radio asking for assistance while she studied the GPS unit mounted above it and tried to discern their position.

A man's voice crackled over the radio identifying himself as US Coast Guard and asking them to identify themselves. Castle and Beckett exchanged relieved smiles.

"I have a 10-33. Is this frequency safe?" Beckett asked.

"Can you confirm; a 10-33?" The guard asked, obviously recognising but not accustomed to using the NYPD code requesting the assistance of an officer. Castle repeated the guard's question and he was almost yelling in his eagerness to be rescued.

"Confirmed," Becket replied.

"Can you report your location?"

Beckett rattled off the co-ordinates from the GPS and waited with her breath caught in her chest.

"We can have a Response Boat to you in eight minutes. Do you require medical assistance?"

"We have one suspect injured, and have taken possession of a significant amount of contraband."

"Acknowledged. This channel is not secure."

"Can you get word to the 12th? Badge number 41319; they'll be looking for us."

"Will do, officer. Sit tight."

Replacing the handset Beckett stepped further into the steering house and looked under the console and then through the storage tubs along the side of the hull. She found what she was looking for wrapped in a waterproof plastic sleeve. She tucked her weapon into the waistband of her pants and rummaged through the bag.

She handed a safety flare to Castle, and then unzipped the first aid case and inspected the contents. There wasn't much, but there was a triangular bandage and cotton pads.

Removing her weapon from behind her hip she passed it, grip first, to Castle. He raised his eyebrow to her in question.

"I'm going to patch him up. Just keep an eye him," she explained.

Beckett knelt beside the man and lifted his jacket away from his chest to expose the plunging wound under his arm. He moaned at the movement but didn't fight her. She pressed the cotton pad tight against the plunging gash and then secured it with the bandage pulled tight around his shoulder below the neck to slow the bleeding. It would have to do.

Her body protested when she stood up; a mass of aches from her forehead to her ankles. The buzzing in her head was eerie and she immediately sought her partner. She crossed the deck to join him where he stood watching her from beside the helm. She raised herself up into the pilot's seat. The chair swivelled around and she turned so she faced towards Castle and then slumped back into the chair.

"Hell of a night," he said.

The ringing in her ears seemed to be settling and it wasn't so hard to hear his voice, although the background sounds of the ocean were still inaudible. "That's an understatement."

The chill of the evening started settling into their bones now that they'd stopped moving and the warming jolt of adrenaline had left their bodies. Goosebumps broke out along Castle's skin and Beckett began a faint shiver.

"I'm going to see if there were blankets in the forward cabin. Are you okay for a minute?"

"I'm fine, Castle," she assured him. Blankets sounded good.

He disappeared back down the hatch and was gone less than a minute before a large seat cushion was poked up onto the deck as well as a grey woollen blanket that looked warm even if it didn't look very soft.

Beckett forced herself up from the seat. She avoided looking at the motionless body of their would-be captor and, instead, pulled the cushion and blanket back into the thin protection of the semi-enclosed wheelhouse.

Castle popped up brandishing a smile and waving something at her, "Look what else I found?"

From the size of Beckett's grin he could have been presenting her with three course meal and a bottle of wine instead of two cans of baked beans and bottle of water.

He passed her a spoon, but kept the can of beans just out of reach, "Go on! I know you want to say it..."

"Castle! I'm starving!"

"Kaaaaate."

"Please?"

"That's not it," he sing-songed.

Beckett sighed and feigned exasperation, but the corners of mouth quirked up. "Best. Partner. Ever." She told him, and his face broke in a wide grin.

Castle handed over her tin with a flourish. They had the ring pulls off and were happily scoffing down beans before they'd even managed to arrange themselves properly under the blanket. They shuffled around finding a comfortable spot against each other as they chewed.

"You think Ryan and Esposito are okay?" Castle asked around mouthfuls.

"I'll call them as soon as we get a cell phone from the Coast Guard. I don't want to risk too much chatter over the radio," she explained.

Castle hummed his agreement but didn't stop eating.

The food ran out too soon. "Was there any more down there?" Beckett asked, scraping the last of the sauce from around the tin.

"A can of spam and a few ready-to-heat meals."

Beckett groaned her disappointment. She placed the empty can down and snuggled deeper into the blanket.

"Chicken casserole," Castle said with a wistful sigh after a moment.

"Is that what you feel like?" her teeth chattered around the question.

"No. That's what I have waiting for me back at the loft."

Beckett's answering moan was almost sinful. "Castle!" she drew his name out in complaint, "Not fair."

"You're more than welcome to share." His hand draped over her knees, and he pulled her into him, then lifted his own legs and settled them down over hers. He adjusted the blankets, pulled it tight around her, and tried to keep them both warm.

She thought of the contents of her own fridge; she had all the makings of a salad, and fresh deli ham... but she knew she was too tired to prepare anything. If it came down to having to cook versus just crawling into bed she knew which one she'd choose.

"Do you hear that?" Castle asked.

Beckett turned her head to listen. She could make out the slap of the waves against the hull but her hearing was still muted by the muzzle blast. "No. Is it the Coast Guard?"

"I'll have a look." Castle stood up and, adjusting the blanket around his partner, he looked around. He wasn't sure what direction was towards the bay and which was further into the Atlantic. The flick of lights showed him the location of a vessel as it dipped and rose over the swell of the ocean. The hum of its motor broke the splash and slap of the water against their hull.

"I can see them," he said, and he looked around the boat wondered if he needed to do anything to help them come along side.

Beckett stood up beside him, one hip resting on the half-wall of the cabin to help her balance, and she opened the blanket to give him half and they watched the vessel approach together, her hair flapping against his collar in the wind.

It cut its engine and came to a stop some forty or fifty yards away, and Castle was about to call out when a voice cut the night, "Hey, answer the damn radio you idiot!"

Castle and Beckett both stiffened and they stepped back to the comparative safety of the wheelhouse. The detective reached for her gun while Castle reached for the radio. "Is this channel monitored? Should we let the Coast Guard know?"

"They can't be far away. Give it a minute and let's see what they do."

Beckett crouched down behind the side of the hull. Castle pulled the radio handset to the full extension of its cable and he took cover under the helm as close to his partner as he could.

The voice from across the water called out again, angry this time, "Hey! Answer me, damn it! We're coming aboard!"

"How many do you think 'we' is?" Castle asked.

Beckett didn't bother to answer; her attention was on the other boat. The motor powered up and it began to circle them. A powerful floodlight lit the deck.

"Oh, hell!" she couldn't help but mutter. "We're caught."

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- if you're following along leave me a comment and let me know what you think (yes! that means you!). I'm enjoying writing this, but it's always nice to get feedback and see how others are finding it in regards to characterisation and pacing and plot and all that jazz. Clearly I'm not Andrew Marlowe when it comes to telling a story but I'm all for learning and improving so if something jars and makes you cringe, or something makes you smile, or something draws you in, then let me know. It's nice to get a feel for how it comes across outside of my head.

For those of you waiting for it- we only have one more chapter until we're back to the 'beginning', and that's where i got carried away with all the fluff and lord knows what's going on. I hope either Beckett or Castle know where they're going because i sure as heck don't.


	10. Chapter 9 Exploding Boats and Icy Waters

Nat- your acct is private so i can't reply- but Beckett and Castle don't know yet where the other gunmen are- so you don't know either! But they've not been forgotten.

And Docnerd89- we'll have to both send a shoutout to Madsthenerdygirl for Beckett's attempt at keeping McBaddie alive. I was seriously just happy to leave him on the deck and have them walk over him too, so i asked if she thought i could get away with just leaving him there - ignored! But she reminded me that Beckett's got a few more scruples than us!

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 9 – Exploding Boats and Icy Waters<p>

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><p>Castle tried to avoid the searching light and huddled in further under the console. Beckett, however, had no such protection.<p>

A burst of heavy machinegun fire had them abandoning their watch and jumping back into the slim shelter of the wheelhouse. A line of bullet holes marked the deck. Beckett tried to sight someone on the other vessel to fire upon but the blinding light made it impossible to see anything beyond the white glare and the faint outline of the bow.

"Call the Coast Guard!" Beckett yelled over the sound of the splintering hull.

Castle already had the handset to his mouth and was yelling into it about being under fire. Neither of them could make out the reply over the shouts of their assailants and the chatter of the machinegun.

"You want to head back below deck?" Castle shouted.

Beckett had already considered that option. But being caught below deck if an armed party bordered the boat seemed like an even worse scenario than waiting for the Coast Guard. She eyed the lifebuoy on the side of the wheelhouse and wondered if their chances were better dodging gunfire or in the icy water.

Another trail of bullets impacted along the side of the boat and Beckett dove for cover beside Castle. A blaze of orange caught her attention and she noticed that their bow was on fire.

"The ammunition!" she yelled at Castle, "The boat's on fire! If those flames reach the ammo in the cabin..."

"Oh, shit." Castle looked around wildly, and then found his attention returning to Beckett. He stared at her, his expression one of stark desperation.

The radio behind them crackled to life again and this time they could make out part of the message; the response boat had them in sight.

Beckett grabbed the handset and yelled into it; informing them that their attacking vessel was under lights and that they were not returning fire.

The drug runners must have noticed that they were no longer alone and the next round of shots echoed across the black of the waves. The Coast Guard returned fire just as the flames at the hull of their own boat intensified.

"We need to get off the boat, Castle!" Beckett yelled, and then she shouted again into the handset about live rounds and explosions and all Castle could think was that they were insane and that he needed to convince Beckett that she'd make a great lingerie model. He could totally follow a lingerie model around for inspiration and it wouldn't involve getting shot at or tied up or bombs or explosions of any kind.

She didn't wait for a reply from their rescuers, but was rounding the forecabin and yanking the lifebuoy from the wall. She turned and yelled at Castle, and as another trail of bullets hit their boat, and the Coast Guards answered with a hail of shells, he ran to join her and grabbed the other side of the floatation device.

He didn't even want to think about how cold the water was going to be. He was already scrambling onto the hull alongside Beckett. She wrapped one arm around him and the other through the centre of the ring.

Together they jumped.

They hit the water and the breath was forced from their lungs. Castle went under and he struggled to force his body to work; to kick up and to suck air into his lungs. An arm pulled at him, and his face came clear of the icy water, gasping.

Behind them the boat exploded. Fragments of flaming hull descended around them, but with bodies paralysed from the cold they could do nothing but watch, mesmerised, as they hyperventilated; their bodies instinctively reacting to the freezing water.

They fought to suck air into their lungs and kicked together, both with strangle-holds on the other's arms. The lifebuoy bobbed just under the surface of the water. The flames above and around them, and the reflection on black water, created a confusing sense of disorientation.

Castle called out to get Beckett's attention and once they found each other's eyes neither one of them would look away. They ignored the flaming debris raining down on them and instead focused on each other.

The roar of an engine, a long angry chatter of gunfire, and then yelling voices were lost in the cacophony. But as the blinding search light was extinguished, and the voices calling for them became more desperate they realised they had survived – again – and they started yelling.

###

Having made it to the safety of the response boat Beckett's first thought was to call her colleagues. It felt as though it took forever to get out of wet pants and freezing jackets and into the coveralls and layers of blankets the coast guard insisted on.

Her hurried conversation with the lieutenant, and his relayed report back to base for additional support, kept her distracted long enough that by the time she was ushered to a seat, and given the use of his cell phone, Castle was already there. His coveralls clung tight across his chest and shoulders, and looked damp where his wet skin pressed too-tight against the borrowed clothing. Despite the silver space blanket wrapped around his back his lips were tinged blue and he shivered with the cold.

Beckett unwrapped a corner of her woollen blanket and offered it to him. He tugged at it to wrap around them both as she sat with her body pressed against his side, seeking warmth.

She forced her stiff fingers to navigate the keypad of the phone. Esposito answered on the first ring and she'd barely announced herself when he started yelling for Ryan in the background.

"You had us worried, boss. What the hell happened?"

"They were smuggling drugs and ammo like we suspected and we got caught in the middle of it," she tried to steady the chattering of her teeth as she spoke, "What happened to you two?"

"We got a text from you saying you had a suspect in custody. Your vehicle was gone when we got back to the lot so we figured you'd come back to the precinct. By the time we realised you'd never called into dispatch and we got back to the container yard there was no sign of you."

"Son of a bitch," she cursed. Castle looked at her, worried, and she rested her hand on his leg under the blanket and offered a tight smile with the shake of her head. His body was shivering as badly as hers.

"Yeah, well, Gates got a call from the Coast Guard over in Jersey. She's on a rampage in here. Where are you two?"

"On a boat heading in to Lower Bay from somewhere out in the middle of the ocean."

"You're shittin' me!"

"Nope, and that's not the half of it."

"You on your way in here?"

Beckett paused; considering. She looked over at Castle – the purple lump across the bridge of his nose and the haggard look in his eyes – he looked as exhausted as she felt. "Let me talk to Gates. We've been working this for twenty-four hours straight and we've both been in better shape. I might see if I can give a report over the phone and head home."

"You okay?"

"Nothing a hot shower and a good night's sleep won't cure," she assured him.

"I'll get Gates. You tell Castle we said hi."

"Thanks, Espo."

Beckett could hear Ryan demanding information in the background before the phone went quiet. Her Captain's voice was calm when she finally came on the line and Beckett found it reassuring.

"Detective Beckett, I was glad to get that call ten minutes ago. I'm looking forward to your report."

"About that, Sir, Castle and I are both in need of medical attention. Would it be possible for me to email you a copy of our report rather than have us come into the station?"

"How badly are you hurt, Detective?"

"Nothing too serious, Sir, and we do have leads that need to be followed up, but neither one of us is fit for duty at the moment."

"Get yourself checked out, Detective. I'll be waiting for your report as soon as you can manage it."

"Thank you, Sir."

Beckett hung up and passed the phone back to the Lieutenant sitting opposite them in the enclosed bridge of the vessel.

"Please tell me we have the rest of the night off?" Castle begged.

"Not quite, but I'll do you a deal, Castle," Beckett said, her face serious. "I'll take care of the paperwork, but I want some of that chicken casserole."

.

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><p>.<p>

A/N- who wants to see them sit around and do paperwork for a few hours? It would be over dinner... I could include a few lingering looks... no? No one cares about the paperwork? Okay then... Let's all just assume her report was exceedingly thorough.

Leave a review! - it makes me feel like we're having a conversation.


	11. Chapter 10 Warm

Thanks to Trish (deandreamer) for advice about how to line things back up again. I'd never written a full flashback type fic before and while it works so well on the show i wasn't sure how to recreate the mood without retelling too much of the story- hopefully this works.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 10- Warm<p>

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><p>There was no discussion over who was going first. The door had barely locked shut behind them and she was heading up the stairs to the bathroom on the upper floor assuming Castle would be doing the same in his own bathroom.<p>

"You want dry clothes?" he called from the foyer.

"I'll find something," she answered, not interested in waiting for him to find her something to wear when all she wanted was to warm up.

The ambulance officer who was waiting for them upon their arrival to shore had checked them over, pronounced them battered but not broken, handed out Tylenol, and prescribed a warm shower, food, and bed rest; all of which they were more than happy to comply with.

The bathroom was already filling with steam by the time she stripped out of the baggy coveralls and managed to pull off her wet underwear. The first touch of warm water scalded her fingers and she had to adjust the temperature before stepping in. She stood directly under the stream with the water pummelling her head and her shoulders; massaging away the aches and thawing her frozen skin. She gradually increased the temperature until the room was clouded with steam and the heavy air made it difficult to breath.

Her hunger eventually pulled her from the shower. She rubbed vigorously at the skin of her legs and arms, and then patted more gently over the bruises to her ribs and neck and forehead. She used Alexis' hairdryer to dry the bulk of the moisture from her hair but was too impatient to finish it off.

She wrapped the large towel around herself and opened the bathroom door. A pile of clothes was already waiting for her on the floor at the door, and she smiled at Castle's thoughtfulness before disappearing back into the bathroom.

Bundled snugly in his sweatpants and socks she felt better than she had any right to, considering the past several hours. She pulled open the top drawer and hoped Alexis wouldn't also mind her borrowing a hair tie.

Castle's voice called to her from further along the hallway and she poked her head around the door.

"Pass me out the rest of your clothes, I'll rinse them and put them in the dryer." His body was concealed behind the laundry alcove and only his head poked around the doorframe.

"Are you asking for my underwear, Castle?"

"I promise not to paw them overmuch."

She was too tired to think of a witty rejoinder. Instead she gathered up her things and carried them in to join his in the washing machine.

She leaned against the wall of the hallway and, through half-lidded eyes, watched him do laundry.

As soon as the machine beeped and the cycle started he was ushering her down the stairs to the flickering flames of his heater and the smell of chicken casserole.

"Feed me, Castle," she begged.

###

Standing together at the door to his loft, her hand on his shoulder, Castle couldn't help but wish she'd reconsider her decision to head home.

"Sleep well, Castle. I'll see you later." Well fed, and drowsy from the fire, her body felt heavy and sluggish, and Kate couldn't wait to get home, fall into bed, and just sleep. Without thinking she leaned in to say goodnight.

She was moving up towards him, her eyes closed, before he had a chance to realise her intention. Her mouth settled over his – the gentle press of lips – her mouth closing around his top lip with a slight increase of pressure before pulling away.

Castle felt the world shift under his feet and, as she stepped back, his body sought to follow her; he wanted nothing more than to hold her against him and kiss her again. The catch of her breath reminded him to breathe.

She groaned, annoyed at herself, "I'm sorry, Castle, I must be more tired than I thought." She dropped her head and started to step away. With her heart skipping in her chest she felt light and euphoric; another surge of adrenaline through her already exhausted and sleep-deprived body.

"Kate?" One hand moved to wrap lightly around her back, not restraining her but urging her to stay close. "It's okay." He tried to reassure her.

"I wasn't thinking." The goodnight kiss had felt all too natural. Even now she wanted nothing more than to collapse against him.

Castle slid one hand against her cheek and lifted her face. He was amazed that she allowed the intimate touch. "You're exhausted. Just stay here."

"I can't." She pushed away to untangle herself from his touch, "I'll see you later?"

Castle battled with himself. He was fighting to stay on his feet and she looked ready to collapse. "No," his voice was gentle but he wasn't negotiating any longer, "We've had a hell of a night, Beckett." His hands were already untying her coat.

"Castle, don't." Despite her protest there was no strength in her voice.

His hands stilled, but he didn't let go of her belt. "I'm not going to have us survive an armed ambush, being abducted, an exploding boat, and the freezing waters of the Atlantic only to have you wrapped around a streetlight because you fell asleep on the way home. Sometimes it's okay to admit that you're not invincible; that you need something."

"I'm feeling anything but invincible at the moment. Tonight was one close call too many, Castle," she said, her honestly surprising them both.

"I know," he whispered, taking a slow and steady step to close the gap between them. He parted the sides of her coat and tugged it from her shoulders. "I need this, even if you don't." His hands trailed along the length of her arms and he took a half-step closer as her coat fell away. His head tilted and the slight stubble along his jaw grazed along her temple.

"This?" There was an edge of fear to her voice, but she turned into the press of his cheek against the top of her head. Her eyes drifted closed.

"You – here safe – two doors, a hallway, and a staircase between us." His expression was gentle, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth hidden in her hair, "and a hug."

"I can't do this out of fear, Castle."

"It's just a hug." His arms settled lightly around her, nudging her in closer against him.

She let go and dropped her head to his shoulder. With an unsteady breath she filled her lungs and then, with a sigh, bought her arms around his waist and embraced him forcefully. The night had been one nightmare situation after another and she wondered how many second-chances they'd get before their luck finally ran out; before one of them ended up coming home without the other.

"It would be a mistake to start anything while we're feeling like this; exhausted and not thinking clearly." The words were for meant for herself, but she was speaking out loud.

"No one is starting anything. We're just going to get some sleep."

"Okay." She was quiet for a moment, soaking in the warmth of him. She didn't want to go home to an empty house and an empty bed; empty without Castle. She didn't want to be alone with fragmented images of 'if only' and 'what could have been'. With her arms wrapped around him, she asked, "Will Alexis be back early?"

"Alexis? No, not until dinner tonight, why?"

"I don't want to leave," she admitted, finally.

"Come on," he loosened his hold on her, "Come upstairs."

"No," she kept her face hidden against his chest and clutched at his shirt, preventing him from moving away from her. "I'd rather not be alone, Castle. Would that make you uncomfortable?"

"Would what make me uncomfortable?"

"If I slept in your room? I just... Is that too much?"

"Never too much." Rick cradled her head against his chest. With his eyes squeezed shut he clamped down the rush of emotion he felt at having Kate ask him for something she needed. "You can ask me for anything, Kate."

"Some things are too much to ask for."

"Not this. I've had to watch you go home alone, or home to someone else, after so many days like today; days when I've wanted nothing but to have you close enough to touch, just to know that we made it through and you were safe... and still here with me."

"But you'd have let me go again just now." Kate didn't understand how he knew when to push and when to let her go when even she didn't know how she felt. He'd become so adept at reading her it was both terrifying and reassuring.

"I would, if I thought that was what you needed. But it's not – you need this as much as I do."

"I do."

"Then come to bed with me."

Kate didn't meet his gaze as she stepped away. She reached for his hand and pulled him after her. Crossing the living room she turned off the lights and led him to his bedroom.

.

The End.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- Bwah ha ha! No, it's not the end, i'm just messing with ya. I figure i'm going to have to do that at least once every multi-chap fic.

How would it be to sit through _all of that_ only to finally get them safe and realising how much they care about the other and all we get is a deep and meaningful look or a shoulder bump! It'd be like WATCHING THE FREAKIN' SHOW! with their fade to black and no kissing!


	12. Chapter 11 Comfort

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 11- Comfort<p>

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><p>She stepped out of her shoes but didn't speak as she rummaged through his drawers and chose a pair of his boxer shorts. Castle sat on the edge of his bed and watched her – equally enjoying and feeling slightly unnerved by the way she had made herself at home in his bedroom.<p>

His eyes didn't leave her as she crossed from his wardrobe and over to his ensuite. When she pulled the door closed behind her he took the opportunity to find something not-too-ratty to sleep in himself.

He dressed for bed in the alcove of his wardrobe and tried to keep focused on the fact that his partner and friend had had a rough day rather than the fact that Kate Beckett was currently changing for bed in his bathroom. For the first time that night he was glad he was half asleep on his feet or he might have allowed his imagination to get ahead of them both.

When she emerged, with her hair freshly combed and tumbling around her shoulders, and dressed in his clothes, he found his body frozen in place and his mind gone blank.

Kate hid her eyes and smiled shyly at him, and then pulled the covers back to climb into bed. "Which side do you prefer?" she asked, with her knee already on the bed.

It took Castle a moment to reply, "Either. I don't mind." Really? She could have whichever side of the bed she wanted, he was still amazed by the fact that she was there with him; that she was allowing him to be there for her.

"I'll just be..." he pointed to the bathroom and forced his eyes away from the length of her legs and tried to ignore the fact that she was climbing into his bed like it was an everyday occurrence.

While he brushed his teeth he reminded himself that she, like he had so many times after previous cases, needed the reassurance of his presence and nothing more. Still, the reality of having her with him was nothing like the quiet comfort he had imagined in the past. While he rinsed and spat he stared sternly at himself in the mirror and vowed to stay on his side of the bed.

Kate was under the blankets and facing towards the bathroom when he came out. With her arm folded under her head and her hair fanned out behind her she was propped up high enough to see him over the thick comforter. She couldn't help the lazy grin that spread slowly across her face as she watched him. He had his hand on the light switch and when he turned to look at her he came to a halt; his jaw tightening and his body rigid. She wondered briefly what it said about her that she enjoyed seeing how easily he was affected by her, but she couldn't help the feeling of relief and confidence that she got knowing that, even as defenceless as she felt in his clothes and in his bed, she was still in control.

Rick crossed to the other side of the bed and climbed in beside her. He mentally mapped out the middle of the mattress and was careful to arrange himself without imposing. He couldn't stop the replay of images from the day as they flittered through his tired brain. But the steady breathing and quiet shuffling of blankets from beside him was like a balm.

Kate rolled over onto her back and straightened her legs. She enjoyed the tug of the sheets over her toes as her bed-partner adjusted his position. It would take nothing more than a bend of her knees or a stretch of her arm to bring them in contact. A long drawn-out sigh filled the darkness as she relaxed fully. Her eyes felt heavy and a tranquil peace suffused her body.

"You're always there for me, Castle," she whispered.

"That's what partners are for," he replied, his voice warm and soothing in the darkness.

It was so much more than that, "Only the best ones, Rick."

He had made himself a promise that he would maintain a strict neutral zone along the centre of the bed, but the sound of his name whispered in the stillness overrode every ounce of his self control. He slid his hand across the space between them and found Kate already reaching for him. She wrapped their fingers together and her hand was still for only a moment before her thumb moved over the back of his knuckles in a gentle caress.

"Goodnight, Kate," he said, turning his face to look at her; the blankets tucked under her chin and her hair spilling across his pillows.

Without letting go of his hand Kate rolled away, onto her side, bringing his arm with her. Her body was beyond weightless and with the comfort of Castle beside her and the sinfully soft cotton against her skin she felt like she was floating. Kate draped his arm over her hip to keep her grounded and allowed her every muscle to go limp.

"G'night, Castle," she sighed.

She was asleep before he rolled over to nestle himself against her back.

###

Awareness returned slowly to Kate and for a moment she lay in the half-awake haze between dreams and reality. With warmth beside her and the slow and steady heartbeat below the palm of her hand she could have been waking from any number of her dreams from the past month.

But wrapped in his blankets and with her face buried into his shoulder she was surrounded by his oh-so-familiar scent and she knew whose bed she was waking in – Castle's.

She was content to lay there for a moment and enjoy the sensation. The relaxed muscles and steady breathing told her he was asleep – and there was no reason for her to have to move away yet. Waking in his arms at some point had long become inevitable and even if she would have rather it be the morning after a wonderful night before, waking with him in the middle of the day after a difficult case was somehow fitting.

Kate saw no reason to fight the sense of rightness she felt at being here with him. She kept her face still against his body and let her eyes drift closed. She catalogued every sensation; the weight of his leg hooked over the curve of her knee, the firm length of his arm under her neck, the solid strength of his chest under her hand, the way his head angled towards her with his chin cradling the top of her head – she absorbed every nuance.

It was as tempting as hell to run her hand along his chest and pull him down to her mouth. But she imagined having that conversation with Dr Burke and knew in herself that she would always doubt her decision if she made it in the wake of yet another warning call regarding their mortality. She stored away the feelings he created in her with the thought that the memory alone would be enough to draw out as both reassurance after a tough case and as motivation to get to where she could accept the connection they shared without reservation.

Deciding it was time to move back she clamped her jaw and prepared herself to lock it all away; to go back to the 'them' that existed before she invited herself into his bed. Her brow furrowed and she felt the tension creep back into her spine as she tried to separate herself from him. She knew it had to be done, and yet, if waking like this left her feeling so utterly at peace...

Her fingers twitched against his chest; seeking hold of him. Maybe she didn't have as far to go as she had thought. If laying here beside him, no walls between them, left her feeling more whole than she could remember being in over a decade, and the thought of stepping away, re-erecting her self-imposed barriers, caused her stomach to clench in fear – maybe that was all the evidence she needed.

A smile replaced her frown and she hid her head in the curve of his shoulder. Her lips ghosted across the fabric of his shirt with the movement. She imagined she could almost taste his skin and the tingling it created caused a wholly different form of tension in her body. It almost distracted her from the turmoil of her thoughts but Kate felt some great truth was just within her grasp and jumping him out of pure physical need was even more of an undesirable way to change the balance of their relationship – although looking more and more likely as her heartbeat picked up and she felt warmth and arousal gather heavy in her belly.

She felt him stir beneath her; the flex of muscle, the curl of his arm under her neck that tightened its grip and wrapped around her back, a slow inhalation of breath that caused his chest to expand, and then he was rolling towards her.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** I have to admit I am disturbed by the lack of dialogue in this chapter. When things get all 'in their heads' I start to panic with some kind of entrenched fear of emotional intimacy! You lot all thought there was too much action and the drama was never going to end, and i'm here thinking "_oh my god, don't reveal your own personal longing for an intimate emotional connection with the rest of the Caskett universe! Where's a badguy they can fight? Or naked, how about they just get naked. I love PWP! Just. Don't. Talk. About. Feelings!"_

But the characters! They don't listen! They're on some kind of journey with their soul-mate or some other such rubbish (and if it was anyone other than Castle & Beckett i'd be rolling my eyes over, cos really, soulmates? They don't exist! Except... look at them! They're so darn perfect!) and so here i am, and it's all fluff and romance and i'm dying with embarrassment and i have no idea what i'm writing! And i'm too old to be feeling this adrift! But this keeps going! I've been at it for chapters more past this and still they're all dreamy and i want to write it **so badly**! But i have no idea if i sound like an idiot! *snort* Right now you're all thinking "she's lost the plot!" You could be right! But my point is, if this is the biggest load of bleugh you've ever read, tell me gently! My bruised and battered, loved-and-lost heart can't take it! But at the same time i'm also crazily, insanely loving your feedback.

Anyway, i'm going to stop procrastinating and post this, and then maybe i can get kicking along enough that i feel confident in posting another update early in the morning (my morning).


	13. Chapter 12 Epiphany

Thanks for the reviews and feedback, makes me more confident about what i'm writing so i spend less time rolling my eyes at myself and hiding in my hands – so here's a bonus update to say thanks. I'll still post another update tonight, although i imagine everyone will be too busy to read it...

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 12- Epiphany<p>

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><p>Kate held her position and forced her body to relax. He would follow her lead – he always did – and she wanted today to hold no fear and no discomfort. She wanted it to be just another step forward, another part of <em>them<em>, and a natural progression that she needn't fear.

For so long they'd shared a deeper emotional connection than she'd ever allowed herself with another adult. She'd known how greatly his touch affected her for some time, enough that she'd shied away from casual physical intimacy, but there was something incredibly healing about waking in his arms.

His body recognised the woman against him before his brain caught up – Kate – warm and drowsy and wrapped in his arms, and it felt only natural to gather her close. Conscious thought came too soon and he shifted his hips and started to pull away before she woke and he embarrassed himself.

Kate recognised his withdrawal and knew it was for her benefit. She allowed their legs to roll back apart but she pressed her hand firm against his chest to still his retreat; trusting that physical reassurance more than her words.

"Morning, Castle," she said without fanfare.

It took him only a second to find a reply, "This is starting to become a habit," he said casually, a smile forming.

"What is?" Kate asked, willing to play his game.

"Us waking up together."

"And there aren't even any crazed gunmen around this time."

"That's true, there aren't."

Kate gave them both a moment to wander with that thought before she spoke again, "I'm going to head into the precinct and check in with the case. Is it okay if I come back after?"

Castle's still drowsy mind staggered though her words. He heard 'precinct' and 'case' and knew he should focus, but she was lying against him, her hand heavy on his chest, as if it were the most natural thing in the world and she was asking to come back to his loft when she was done – asking if it were okay?

"Yes," was all he could think to say. He bought his free hand up to cover hers. "It's more than okay. Did you want me to come in with you?"

Did she? Did she want to resume their familiar roles at the precinct and the comfort of him, as her partner, at her side? Or did she want to hold them in this hazy unchartered territory until they had time to explore it together?

"Are you up for a home-cooked meal?"

"Are you offering to cook dinner?" he asked, surprised.

Kate chuckled; she hadn't thought of that. "I could," she said, "but I was actually thinking we could split up; I'll see what progress the boys made with chasing down our new leads and you can work on feeding us."

"Mmmm, a good use of resources," Rick agreed. Sensing a slight hesitation in her request he refrained from making a joke about her wanting him at home slaving away in the kitchen. If she were working through this sudden change in dynamics between them he didn't want to call attention to it.

They still hadn't looked at each other. Kate kept her head on his shoulder and Rick played with her fingers where they moved idly over his chest; a pleasant stand-off with both knowing that too much would be revealed to want to risk eye contact.

"What time is it?" she asked.

Rick rolled to look at the clock beside the bed, "Just after midday."

Kate used his movement to gently untangle their bodies. She stretched out, arching her back and lengthening her legs, "I feel pretty good for less than five hours sleep, all things considered."

A low chuckle rumbled from Rick's chest, "I thought so, too."

Kate ignored his innuendo but didn't bother to hide her smile, "Can I have the bathroom or do you want to go first?"

"You go. I'll get coffee on." He watched her as she slipped out of bed. There was no self-consciousness in her movements and she didn't shy away from his stare. He supposed she was used to him watching her, but her comfort with his eyes following her around his bedroom created a buzz in his head and a twisting in his belly, "Do you need something to wear?"

"No, I'll just wear my things from yesterday. I'm going to head home before I go into the precinct." She crossed to the alcove of his closet where she'd left her bundle of clothes and then headed to his bathroom.

She paused briefly at the door and met his eyes, knowing it needed to be said, "Thanks, Castle, for last night. I didn't realise how much I needed this." Unspoken, her thoughts continued with, 'how much I needed_ you,'_ but she couldn't bring herself to say it aloud.

"Anything you need," Castle promised.

Kate's thoughts returned to his words from earlier that morning when he'd wrapped her in his arms and admitted to needing a hug, and needing her with him – and she couldn't help but hope he'd ask her for what_ he _needed again.

###

With the hot water beating down on her shoulders Kate tried to focus her thoughts on their case, but her mind wouldn't settle, and instead skipped from leads and potential evidence back to her memories of the previous night.

She realised she should have called Ryan or Esposito for an update before getting in the shower to give herself something to focus on. Had they been able to trace the two other men from the container yard? Had the Coast Guard passed on any information about the boat or the larger vessel they had met up with? Had evidence been found at the storeroom? How were the smugglers connected to their murder victims? Without knowing where the investigation currently stood she was running in circles and the only constant was the fact that Castle was in the kitchen making her coffee and toast, and she wanted to solve the case and come back to him – to 'them'.

She'd spent so long living within her self-imposed limits, waiting for the moment when she finally felt free from the hurt and pain of her past, waiting for the closure that would allow her to heal, waiting for the therapy and the self reflection to allow her to trust, and waiting for the moment when she would finally able to open herself up to all the possibilities that came with loving him. And now she had to face the realisation that the distance she'd worked so hard to maintain wasn't there anymore. There were no barriers between them except for those obstacles that she stubbornly kept putting in their way. And she was still _waiting_.

Not bothering to resist the temptation she reached for his body wash and lathered herself with his scent. She watched the bubbles gather and slide along her skin, and then wash away with the force of the water.

What would happen if she just let it be? They were already there; she just had to stop fighting it. Castle had always been several steps ahead of her when it came to acknowledging the connection that existed between them. She'd been deliberately dragging her heels while he stood waiting at the corner; going nowhere. Maybe it was time she caught up.

Maybe she _had_ caught up! But he was waiting for her to take the lead and, until now, she hadn't known where to go.

She stood, motionless, in the shower and her heart suddenly felt like it was going to beat right out of her chest.

The truth was it didn't matter where they went, so long as they started moving. And if she didn't know how to get them there then maybe letting him know she'd follow his lead would be enough for now.

It felt like the secret to happiness had just been revealed to her and she didn't know what to do with it.

With her stomach a mass of butterflies she turned off the water and leaned her head against the tiles. Droplets of water pooled together to run along her skin and splash to the floor and she watched them until her skin stung from the cold and goose bumps pebbled her extremities.

Kate didn't know what the next step was. Was it enough to just stop resisting? She reached for a towel and decided to start with coffee.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- 'cause everything good starts with coffee, right? And Kate deserves goosebumps from something other than a cold shower.


	14. Chapter 13 Coffee

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 13 - Coffee<p>

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><p>Rick had checked in with Alexis, called to order a new cell phone, searched the fridge for inspiration for dinner, and started the coffee brewing... and the water in the shower was still running.<p>

As tempting as it was to dwell on images of Kate naked and wet in his bathroom he had more than enough to distract him. Like images of Kate curled against him as she fell asleep in the early hours of this morning and the sensation of her – relaxed and at ease against him – when they woke together. It was so far removed from where they'd been only two days ago that he had to wonder if it were a temporary amnesty or if something more profound had changed.

The truth was she had always amazed him, but lately, she was a constant source of small surprises that caught him unexpectedly and gave him hope and left him wondering in equal measure.

But, as much as he loved everything about the frustratingly stubborn woman, he was dreading the moment Detective Beckett walked out of his bathroom – dressed and with her armour intact – discussing dead bodies and motive. If it were up to him he would have just one day with Kate trading kisses and conversation, instead of theories and innuendo.

He couldn't help his relief when the water finally shut off. Even in a shower as good as his there was only so long she could legitimately stay in there before he'd have to admit she was hiding from him.

He put her bread in the toaster and started on her coffee with his game face plastered on and a few good theories to throw about to ease any discomfort she might be feeling.

The smell of coffee led Kate across the living room. She saw Castle before he noticed her and her stomach flipped at the sight of him buttering her toast. Did she really want that kind of domesticity? Was the idea of a man preparing her breakfast after a night together really that appealing? He looked up at her then, his eyes crinkling in a smile, and she knew that she did want those things – if it were Castle making her breakfast, and Castle with whom she'd spent the night before.

She didn't bother to hide her pleasure from him. She hoped he already knew that he made her happy, and if he didn't then it was time she showed him.

"I'm tempted to say 'good morning'," he said as she came around the counter.

"I know. I'm feeling a little out of sync myself," she admitted.

Rick passed over her coffee, and the familiarity of their routine felt like a lifeline. Kate took a sip and felt her eyes drift closed. She breathed in the scent of the coffee but more than anything it felt like she was trying to breath the essence of the moment into herself – her and Rick.

He couldn't help but watch her. It was always an effort to drag his eyes away but even more so today. She'd changed into her dress pants from yesterday but instead of her turtleneck she was wearing his baggy t-shirt and a pair of his socks, her hair curled about her face and a rough braid ran down her back. It wasn't how he had expected her to look when she came out of his bedroom. In fact it was a heck of a lot closer to how he had _hoped_ she might look... except maybe with her hair loose and wild, and one of his buttoned dress shirts on with the buttons well and truly_ un_-buttoned.

He was ready to ask if she'd had any further thoughts about the case when she spoke instead.

"I could get used to this."

Used to waking up at his loft? Used to someone – him? – making her breakfast?

He went with the safe option for his reply, "I already bring you coffee every morning."

Kate snagged a piece of toast and decided to give him a nudge, "I wasn't talking about the coffee."

Rick studied her eyes, was caught by the sight of the toast disappearing into her mouth, and then struck dumb by the flick of her tongue over her lip. He was utterly mesmerised by the uninhibited smile that lit her face, and by the time he dragged himself back to her eyes he was lost.

"Err... then... what were you talking about?"

She took another mouthful of coffee before she answered him. "You've followed me for almost four years, Castle. Maybe it's time for you to take the lead."

The conversation suddenly required all his attention, "The lead? And go where...?"

"How about forwards."

Castle wasn't sure they were talking about the same thing, but the look in her eyes gave him hope, "How do I know you'll follow?"

"So long as you don't go too fast, I'll follow."

###

Castle called her at the station as she was closing yet another file, having sifted her way through most of the information her team had turned up in her absence.

"You have any luck finding the boat or the smugglers?"

"Coast Guard has the boat. It was a luxury catamaran that did regular journeys from the U.S. to the Middle East. The DEA is looking into it. Ryan and Esposito have been out for the last hour running down Leon Reynolds and Rufus Turner; our boys from the storehouse. They both have felony assault charges and connections to the local chapter of the Horseman, and a gun registered to Turner could be a match to the weapon used in the murders."

"Sounds like you've been busy."

"Yeah, well, they had most of it underway when I got in this afternoon. How about you? How did you spend the rest of your day?" Kate surprised herself by genuinely wanting to know. She'd thought of him all afternoon and wondered what he was doing.

"That's why I called, actually."

"You mean you didn't call to see if justice had been served to Aras, Al-Hassani, Madihi, and their families?" she teased him.

"Well, that too, but mostly to ask if you wanted to go _out_ for dinner tonight?" he sounded nervous.

Kate didn't reply immediately, and despite the fact that no one was watching her she couldn't help but turn her head. The back of her hand came up and covered her mouth to hide her smile.

Castle, quick to fill the silence, spoke again, "Or I can just cook, that's fine too. Carbonara?"

"Castle,"

"Yeah?"

"Are you asking me out on a date?" The butterflies in her tummy felt divine. Her cheeks hurt from suppressing her grin and she wished the phone weren't tethered to the desk so she could escape to the relative privacy of the break room.

He was taking the lead.

Castle took the warmth and the humour in her voice as a positive sign and he ploughed forward, "That would be my intention, yes."

"Where would we be going?"

"Nothing too fancy, just... an evening out – you and me."

"Sounds nice."

"Yeah?" his voice was equal parts relief and surprise.

"Yeah, Castle," she reassured him. He'd taken enough risks for her; she didn't want him to think he was taking yet another one, "I said I'd follow."

"Okay, then. Should I pick you up?"

Kate chuckled at the hesitation in his voice, "Let's not get too weird. How about I just head to the loft when I finish and we can go from there."

"I like it. I'll see you tonight."

"I'll see you tonight, Castle."

Beckett hung up and grabbed the printout of Reynolds' phone logs and banking details. She wanted to nail this guy. And soon.

###

By six o'clock Beckett was watching the clock and seriously considering heading out. At any other time she wouldn't have contemplated using the fact that she'd pulled an all-nighter the day before as an excuse to leave early. But she'd slept it off, she wasn't tired, her injuries were all minor – the fact that she had somewhere she'd rather be shouldn't be an issue; but it was.

They'd found the money trail between Reynolds, the Importers, and the Moroccan immigrants; and by all appearances it looked like a failed coup within the organisation. Ryan and Esposito had found the murder weapon during a search of a local biker bar but Turner and Reynolds were in the wind and with fellow gang members keeping an eye out she'd doubted they'd be easy to find.

Beckett had hoped to track down another property or a friend with whom either of them might seek refuge. Despite having several possible leads to follow up on the ticking of the clock continued to draw her attention. She toyed briefly with the idea of justifying her leaving with the fact that Castle was always great at linking the disparate pieces of a case together and coming up with an idea; and he was, but that wasn't why she wanted to see him.

Captain Gates finally decided the matter for her, "Detective Beckett, why are you still here?"

"Sir?" she looked up, startled. She hadn't even heard her approach. "Just looking through our records on Turner and Reynolds; trying to get a fix on where they might be hiding."

"A few hours sleep this morning is hardly enough. Having you on the job when you're not at your best only risks your fellow officers; head on home and get some rest."

"I will, Sir." She assured the captain. She didn't need to be told twice. Beckett had her computer off and her desk tidied in record time.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- the last two updates were short, and i'm sorta keen to get to the next chapter! *snort* so i'm posting this now.

Castle! My man! You're stepping up! Don't let me down, bro.

If you're favouriting, it would be lovely to hear what you think! Hit review (yes, i mean you!) ...


	15. Chapter 14 Ask Alexis

**Leadlight- **thank you so much for the "nail this guy" pickup. I've sprinkled stuff like that around the place but i never know if it's noticeable to other people or just me amusing myself!So your review made me squee!

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>chapter 14 – Ask Alexis<p>

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><p>Kate stood in front of her closet, her foot tapping impatiently, and stared at her clothes. She'd already dressed for dinner; Castle had said nothing fancy so she'd gone with the jeans that she <em>knew <em>he liked, a deep blue sweater that clung to her hips and whose neckline only just managed to cover the scar above her breast, and a pair of do-me heels that she hoped would give her date all sorts of inappropriate ideas tonight.

That wasn't the problem. The problem was the currently empty leather bag on her bed. Her teeth slid repeatedly over her bottom lip as she stared at it.

What exactly did it say if she brought an overnight bag with her? That she was being practical in case they had a few too many drinks and she decided to stay over in the guest room? Or that, with matching underwear and all freshly shaved and loofahed, she was feeling brave?

With an annoyed huff and an eye-roll at her own indecision she grabbed a change of jeans and a casual top, and some work clothes for tomorrow, and bundled them in. She'd leave it in the car if she had to, but she wanted her own toothbrush.

Kate fought the thrum of nervousness on her way to the loft. A part of her revelled in the flutter of her belly as a sweet reminder that something was different. While her attraction to him might not be new, her openly and joyously acknowledging it was, and it left her slightly breathless. Another, larger part of herself insisted she tamp it down and not get carried away. It was just dinner.

And then she was biting her lip and suppressing a crazy smile. "I'm going on a date with Rick Castle," she said aloud. Her voice in the otherwise empty vehicle seemed out of place, but she said it again, letting her smile break free, "I'm going on a _date_ with Rick Castle." She wanted to stomp her feet and dance around.

It was suddenly a good thing that she still didn't have a new phone yet – she felt the impulsive urge to call Lanie just to say it out loud to someone else; someone else that would appreciate the magnitude of the evening. Anything to get it out and free so she could arrive at the loft composed instead of giggling and untethered.

It shouldn't be such a big deal. They were already so close and had been through so much together. In some ways Kate knew she had already accepted that Castle was her future and that there wouldn't be anyone else in her life until that future became possible. But to be there, to be on the cusp of it, felt surreal. The thought of being able to reach out and touch him, to not be afraid of him seeing in her eyes how much she loved him – and she did love him – was liberating.

Pulling up half a block from his apartment she used the brisk walk in the chill air to school her features. Even then the smile with which she greeted Castle's doorman was broader than usual and highly infectious. He grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling, as he opened the door.

"Have a lovely evening, Detective Beckett." He said warmly. Kate ducked her head and mumbled her thanks.

In the privacy of the elevator she wrinkled her nose and scrunched up her face, took a few deep breaths, and furrowed her brow to force the incriminating evidence from her features.

Her knock was answered by a beaming Alexis and, as happy as Kate was to see the girl, the sudden realisation that it wasn't going to be a night of unconstrained passion brought her back to reality. It was enough to quiet her butterflies and bring her too-wide grin under control.

Her happiness at being there didn't go undetected and Alexis quirked an eyebrow at her as she took her coat. The loft was pleasantly warm and Kate loosened the scarf from around her neck and left the ends to hang free over her shoulders.

"Oh, Kate," Alexis' face was suddenly concerned, "He hit you, too?" she touched her fingers to mark on her own forehead the bruising and slight gash that Kate hadn't fully managed to conceal.

"Yeah, but we're both okay," she said, resting her hand on the teenager's forearm in reassurance.

"I was telling Alexis about our rowdy suspects and us being up all hours chasing down leads," Castle said from the kitchen, his eyes squinting at her. He was dreadful at trying to conceal the truth and Kate hoped they hadn't been talking about it long if he wanted to keep the details of last night from his perceptive daughter.

"How was the Catskills?" Kate changed the subject, "You get much skiing in?"

"It was wonderful. Laura's parents own a cabin right on the slopes. It's been years since I've done any serious skiing," she flicked a glance at her father, "I keep trying to convince Dad that we should get away for the weekend."

"You don't ski?" Kate asked him, coming to take a seat around the kitchen bench where he was putting away the dishes.

"I do. We just haven't managed to get away as much recently as we did when Alexis was younger."

"You should come with us, Kate. We could plan a weekend before the season ends."

"Oh, it's been too long since I've been skiing." She laughed at the thought of it.

"You can keep Dad company then. It's been so long I doubt he even remembers what to do with the poles."

"I'll have you know – I still have skills." He waved a pair of tongs in his daughter's direction.

Alexis flicked him a doubting look with pursed lips and quirked eyebrow, and then turned her attention to Kate.

"Where are you going tonight?" she asked, her face a picture of innocent curiosity.

"I'm not sure," Kate glanced over the bench to watch Castle fold his dishtowel and lay it on the counter, "Castle hasn't told me yet," she couldn't help but smile.

"Is it a date?" Alexis asked, her tone unassuming. Kate couldn't help but notice the directness of her gaze and the taut line of her spine, and she suddenly found herself with a new respect for Castle's daughter. The young woman might be one of the sweetest kids she'd ever met, but she was more than innocent blue eyes and pale good looks.

Kate felt the need to prove herself to the girl in front of her just as much as she needed to assure her father that she knew where she wanted things to go.

Castle interrupted before she had a chance to reply, "We're just grabbing some Italian from Angelo's." He stared at his daughter, willing her to let it go, but the girl barely glanced in his direction before turning away. "I won't be out too late."

"Actually," Kate said over him, "Would it bother you if it were a date?" she asked Alexis.

Castle froze, leaning against the bench, his eyes flicking back and forth between his daughter and his partner. He knew Alexis had a great deal of respect for Kate, but she'd had to weather more than one scare since the summer and she bore scars like the rest of them. He wasn't sure how she would feel about them dating and he certainly hadn't expected Kate to ask.

"No, it wouldn't. I was just wondering... where things were going."

Kate wanted to answer, wanted to hand out assurances to everyone in the room, herself included, but she didn't want to make false promises, "I'm not sure where things are going," she couldn't help flick a glance towards Castle, "but I was looking forward to a first date."

"A first date?" Alexis asked, both confused and excited.

Rick smiled. His eyes settled on his partner and despite the barest hint of a grin on her face her eyes were alive with pleasure. His stomach flip flopped in a way it hadn't done in far too long; with shared anticipation.

He wanted Kate to himself for a few hours, and he wanted to see more of that look in her eyes. "Okay, we're out of here." He marched across the dining room and picked up her coat.

She stepped down from the stool and hurried to join him, a little taken aback at their sudden departure.

"We might be late, after all," he said over his shoulder to his daughter as he held up the faux-leather jacket and stepped in behind Kate to help put it on. "Don't wait up."

Kate saw the eye roll Alexis gave him before the girl turned and walked away. She backhanded him in the stomach before slipping her arms into the sleeves.

"Hey, gentle there, Detective. I'm bruised."

"Hmmm," Kate was torn between amusement and censure. "You should have let her talk about it," she said, adjusting her arms in the sleeves.

"I'll talk to her later, but right now..." he ran his hands under her hair and lifted it free from the collar of her jacket, "We are going on a date," he dropped his head and leaned over her shoulder so that his mouth was alongside her ear, "And you look amazing."

A shiver ran down her spine and her eyes threatened to close. She sucked in a breath and turned her head sideways until there was barely space between them, "You don't look so bad yourself, Castle."

Castle's hands hovered at either side of her waist, not touching, stuck halfway between his desire to run his hands along her sides, and rational thought that warned him he was treading on thin ice already and not to push his luck. Still, if he were taking the lead...

He let his hands rest lightly at the flare of her hip and dropped a feather-light kiss on her cheek. It was barely the press of lips, a fleeting touch that ended far too soon, but he hoped it made clear his intentions. He let her go to retrieve his own coat from the linen closet, and quickly spun it over his shoulders and reached for his scarf.

When he turned back, Kate still hadn't moved from her position in the middle of the foyer. He opened the door for her and offered a sweeping 'after you' gesture.

Kate forced the mental replay of his lips, soft against her cheek, from her mind and stepped through the door. His eyes – sparking with optimism – drew her to him, and she couldn't, for the life of her, work out why she'd fought this for so long.

.

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><p><strong>.<strong>

**A/N-** for the life of me I can't figure out why she's fought it for so long either! But shaving your legs is a good sign, right?

Spoiler Alert!- the smiles and the hand holding from last night! I was grinning like a flailing fangirl fool. Girl, there is no wall! You're just so accustomed to thinking there's a wall you haven't realised it's not there anymore! You need to get abducted and stuck on an exploding boat so you can spend the night in his arms and wake up and realise- it's gone! Oh, wait... that's what I've made you do here...

Leave a review, i know you want to...


	16. Chapter 15 Walk

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 15 – Walk<p>

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><p>The short walk along the hallway had never felt so laden with tension. She was hyper-aware of his body beside hers and the faint brush of their coats as they moved into the elevator. Kate pushed the button for street level and then reached into her pocket for her gloves. She leaned against the wall of the elevator car, putting some distance between them, and tugged her gloves on while doing her best to ignore the sideways glances Castle was giving her. She was jittery enough already and the frank appreciation in his stare only served to make her more nervous. She thought maybe she would have been better off taking her usual position at his side. The temptation to look at him, either to study the fit of his jeans or the way his charcoal shirt deepened the colour of his eyes, was almost too great. She wasn't ready to give away all her secrets, and he'd become too good at reading her to risk prolonged eye contact.<p>

She took her time with her gloves, re-wrapped her scarf, tucked her hair behind her ear, reached for her car keys, and made ready to escape from the elevator the minute the doors opened.

Rick knew exactly what she was doing, and he had to work to keep the pleased grin from his face. Seeing Kate Beckett flustered and off balance was an entirely new experience, and the fact that he was the cause of it was heartening. They stepped out onto the street together and he was so distracted by his own musings it took him a moment to realise they were not heading to the garage level and that she had her car keys out.

"Our first date and I still don't get to drive?" he asked, only half serious in his complaint.

Kate's stride faltered as she looked over at him, "I've got the station car," she started to explain. She hadn't given any thought to the fact that she was driving; she usually just assumed that she would. For a brief second she considered offering him the keys, making some token gesture towards acknowledging that she didn't have to be in control all the time; and then decided that she might be willing to trust him to help her step over her wall, but she didn't intend to be a passenger for the entire journey, "We're on call tonight."

Rick might have pushed it, continued the banter, teased her about always needing to be in the driver's seat; but she'd said '_we're _on call' instead of '_I'm_ on call' and her automatic acceptance of him as her partner still caused a flush of pleasure.

"Then I'll drive next time," he said decidedly, and followed her along the sidewalk to the car.

"Next time?" His certainty sent a thrill through her and she bit her lip to hide her smile, "You're awfully sure of yourself," she teased.

"Hmm, I suppose I am. Just one date with Rick Castle?" He turned towards her as he spoke, sharing his humour, "Please! You'll be wanting more." His nose crinkled adorably.

Despite the joke he _was_ sure; although he hadn't been until that morning. It was amazing what waking up with her had put in motion, but if there was one thing he was certain of now it was _them_. Even if this first date was all there was for now, it was a start, and he had every intention of building on it. There was going to be a next time.

"What if this is the first date from hell?"

"Not a chance." His tone left no room for argument.

Stopping beside the vehicle Kate turned to face him. "What makes you so sure?" She kept her voice light, but the question was serious. Despite how much she wanted to try for more, she still couldn't escape her fear of losing what they already had.

"We've been on plenty of dates," he reached out to her and his fingers curled briefly around the underside of her elbow, "We've just never called them that before."

He was right; they'd sat across the table from one another more times than she could count. The only difference was tonight the distance wouldn't be so great.

"Angelo's is only a few blocks away," Kate said with a new plan in mind, "How about we walk?"

###

Rick noticed her lift the edge of her scarf higher around her neck and he realised for the first time how chilly the evening was becoming. He turned his collar up against the cold night air and then stepped in closer and reached for her hand.

The leather of her gloves was smooth against his fingers as he passed her hand from his left to his right, and then enfolded her arm around his, tucking her into his side.

She came willingly, glad of an excuse to focus on the feel of him beside her instead of the nervous anticipation swirling in her belly. They'd spent too much time together for her not to know the nuances of his body; the way he carried himself, what the line of his back and the angle of his head meant. He was relaxed, comfortable, there was no tension in his fingers where they lay against the crook of her arm. Kate drew in a slow breath and the cold prickled her nose. Her exhale was a puff of white that gave away her jitters and did nothing to calm her.

Rick spread his fingers and curled his hand more fully around the slender arm wrapped against his. With her strength and her presence it was often easy for him to forget how slight she was; all determination and willowy charisma. He was glad they'd walked, despite the cold, or maybe because of it. He knew she was still floundering with the change in dynamic between them and an abrupt arrival at the restaurant, all politeness and awkward silences, was not what they needed. She needed a reminder of how good they were together.

"I got a call from Esposito this afternoon," he said conversationally.

She wasn't surprised; she'd had a hard time convincing the pair that he wasn't hurt and he wasn't avoiding her. She should have expected their interrogation regarding his absence. Castle would never just not show up after a day like that – unless she asked him not to,

"The boys were wondering where you were. I told them being held captive on a boat was too much fodder for Nikki Heat and you were home writing."

"Well, I read your report; I can see why they wanted details. Apparently your narration of our evening together lacked any sense of drama." He shot her a look of exasperation, "You left out all the best parts; you gnawing off my restraints, us crammed together in that tiny little closet, clinging to a buoy as fire rained down upon us," he said with flair, his body moving with the story.

She'd also left out the part about her crushing need to have him beside her and the peace she'd felt at sleeping in his arms, so it seemed fair. "I told them all about the storehouse, gave a description of the fugitives and details on the ammunition and the rendezvous boat... you know, the boring police detective stuff." She nudged him with her shoulder and was rewarded with a chuckle.

"I would have thought that after all this time together you'd have realised something, Beckett."

"What's that?"

"Facts are one thing, but everybody needs a little excitement."

###

The restaurant was pleasantly warm and the large painted murals and white draped wooden tables felt casually welcoming. The air smelt of roasting garlic, and cream sauce, and Kate was instantly starving.

They were ushered past the bar and past tables crowded with families to the more intimate dining area along the side wall. Kate looked around appreciatively as Castle spoke quietly to the waiter. She removed her scarf and gloves and tucked them away. Castle was already at her side, pulling out her chair, and then stepping closer to take her coat. She let him take it, drape it over the back of her chair, and then nudge her in as she sat.

There were four chairs at their table and she wanted him beside her; needed the reassurance his physical presence gave her. She didn't want to spend the night staring across their plates and the carafe of water and flickering candle, she wanted to bump his knee and be close enough that the tilt of their heads felt more like they were sharing secrets then sharing a meal.

She gently kicked out the seat beside her, placed it in his path, showed him what she wanted.

He didn't even pause in his acceptance, just placed his hand on the top of the wooden frame, angled it so he'd be both alongside her and able to see her face. He dropped his own coat onto the seat opposite her, and then slid in close. Rick stretched his legs out under the table and he had to force his body still when he felt the brush of her knee as she extended her own legs out under his.

He'd been noticing little things for months; the occasional brush of her hand on his back, a slight decrease in the distance between them when they shared an elevator, a brush of fingers, her unspoken acceptance of his taking her coat or opening the door. He'd taken her comfort in the closeness between them when they woke as positive sign, but with the light of day and some time apart he'd expected retreat and a re-establishing of physical boundaries. He'd thought he'd have to be the one to nudge her closer with tiny, imperceptible movements; a slow erosion of the barrier she kept around herself.

Here she was; offering him shy smiles, talking about dates, leaning in towards him. It made him feel brave. Made him want to be daring.

He pulled his legs in a little, and felt the solid bone of her shin press into his calf. Once again she didn't shy away. She leaned her elbows on the table and her smile when their eyes met, the unguarded affection he saw there, it was enough to take his breath away.

The bustle of noise around them – the overlapping conversations, the piped Italian mood music, the shouts and laughter at the bar – it all faded into the background, and Rick realised that he'd been wrong. He'd often played with the idea that the nights they spent over burgers and milkshakes were their own special 'Beckett and Castle' version of a date. But no meal they'd ever shared compared to the reality of the woman sitting beside him, smiling at him as if there were no one else in the room.

The silence stretched between them, heavy with anticipation and the newness of it all, until Kate finally spoke, her voice far softer than usual, "I've never been here before; it's nice."

He opened a menu and placed it between them, "Wait until you try their lobster ravioli, or the filet mignon," he turned to the entrees and, with the glide of his finger, he invited her to read over his shoulder. "Your taste buds are in for a treat."

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><p>.<p>

A/N- ok, hands up, who else's heads went straight to the idea that they hoped it wasn't just her taste buds that were going to be in for a treat tonight?  
>God, I love playing with these two! How much fun are they?<p>

Thanks for all the amazing reviews, messages, and alerts. I seriously cannot tell you how much getting that encouragement helps to keep me motivated to get these daily updates done, especially when Beckett and Castle develop a life of their own and end up somewhere i don't expect and i start pacing the kitchen looking for snacks and alcohol and inspiration in the pantry and fridge cos, despite having NO CLUE about where they're going i just HAVE to write, people are waiting! Do i have limes here somewhere for this beer?


	17. Chapter 16 A last first date

**Kudos to the creators, cast, and crew of Castle who have given us this amazing world to play in.**

**And thanks to Madsthenerdygirl for the edits and pep-talks.**

**This update is short, FFnet is playing up again with the lack of alerts and messages. Gggrrr! I'm going to post another chapter as soon as the alerts are working again (or first thing in my morning) this one is just for those waking up and looking for something to read over coffee. Actually, i'm hoping to have the morning to write as well so there may even be another chapter posted after that... ya never know your luck.**

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 16- A last first date<p>

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><p>Rick reached for the bottle of wine and topped up both their glasses.<p>

He watched Kate as she unashamedly ran her thumb around the edge of the entree plate they'd shared, and then sucked it clean, enjoying the last of marinara sauce.

"Good, huh?" he offered, absorbed by her.

"Too good." She reached for her wine, thanking him with a tilt of her head, and took a small sip.

It was a nice bottle and, as suggested by their server, it went exceedingly well with their meal, but they were both content to drink it slowly.

"When _was_ the last time you took Alexis skiing?" Kate asked, seemingly out of nowhere.

"Ah, about four years ago. Actually, just before you and I met, Mother and Alexis and I spent two weeks on the slopes at Aspen."

"Did you go often?"

"Not really, once each season I suppose, more if I was trying to avoid writing."

"And you've not gone since?"

"When would I have had the chance?" he asked, sincerely, "You never have time off over the winter."

With one elbow leaning on the table, and her wine glass dangling from her fingers, she studied him. He didn't mind at all, but the secret half-smile she wore had him trying to guess her thoughts.

"It's not like you needed to put in for time off. Three years ago I would have loved it if you'd disappeared for a few weeks."

"Three years ago I wouldn't have risked going anywhere in case you didn't let me back in." He took her glass from her hand and placed it beside their plates. She left her hand there, suspended and empty; waiting. He lifted her fingers with the back of his knuckles, pressed their palms together, and they both allowed their fingers to fall lightly into the spaces they found. "But not this year, or even the last," he spoke the words for her, "We're different now."

"We're partners now," she agreed.

"Admit it; you'd miss me if I took off for the slopes." He teased her, expecting a bite in return or, at the very least, impassioned denial.

"I would," she said instead, surprising him. Her fingers twitched against his and he wondered if she'd meant to say it aloud.

The poorly-timed arrival of their waiter saw her lower their hands. She leaned away to give the gentleman room to clear away their plates and her fingers drifted from his.

Rick had wanted to re-issue his daughter's invitation, but he couldn't interpret the tilt of her head and the shape of her mouth. Was it her accidental admission or the merely the waiter's presence that had caused her to move away?

She waited until they were alone again before she spoke, "You look like you're having a hard time puzzling out motive," she said, and slid her hand flat across the linen tablecloth towards him.

Her approach to the subject made his mouth twitch in appreciation. "Mmmm, it's a complex case," he brushed the pad of his thumb over her knuckles, "There have been a few twists and turns."

"Do you have a person of interest?" Kate rolled her palm over, skimmed the very tips of her fingers over the underside of his wrist and along the bare skin of his forearm, lazy trails, the barest suggestion of contact.

"I have done for a while. But I can't tell how deeply she's involved; she's not an easy person to read." She could tell it took an effort to form the words, his voice quavered slightly when she brushed across the crease of skin at his elbow. She wanted to tell him she was involved, just as invested as he was, but this was easier. This was how they did things; skirted the important conversations.

His eyes were already hazy. She uncrossed her legs and leaned in closer, looked up at him through the veil of her eyelashes, "Have you bought her in for questioning?"

Kate tracked the bob of his throat; saw the higher-than-usual rise of his chest. "I've been waiting for her to come in willingly."

She saw the approach of the waiter from the corner of her eye and almost smiled. With one last stroke across the back of his hand and along the length of his fingers she pulled back. His disappointment was written all over his face and she wondered if he were this easy to read to everyone, or if she'd just grown so accustomed to the flicker and play of his emotions.

She only half-listened to their waiter as he presented their meals and inquired about their satisfaction. Castle was watching her again, wavering between cutlery and conversation. She picked up her fork and twirled it through her pasta.

"I think she might be willing," she said, offhandedly, before she opened her mouth to her meal and tried to give off every indication that she were not as affected by their conversation as he was.

###

Kate couldn't remember when she'd last stuffed herself so thoroughly. Between the deliciously good food, calming influence of the wine, and their intoxicating conversation she'd barely registered how much she'd eaten until there was almost nothing left. She reluctantly put her fork on her plate and prodded the too-tempting food away.

She let out a satisfied moan and reclined in her chair, "If I don't stop now I'll be forced to undo a button on my jeans," she said, and waited eagerly for his reply.

"You're forgetting dessert."

"I have no room for dessert," she protested, but she'd seen the specials board and it was oh so tempting.

"Then we'll have to get it to go, take it back to the loft, and find some more accommodating clothing."

"Is that what you had in mind for after dinner?" Kate ignored her too-full belly and sat up, tilting her head in towards him, "Us, camped out on the loungeroom floor, wearing baggy sweatpants and eating tiramisu?"

Rick put down his own fork and angled his head to meet her across the table. Their legs had not strayed throughout the meal; a constant tangle and bump of feet and calves and knees, and he dropped one hand under the table and found the firm ridge of her kneecap unerringly.

"Honestly, you've had me so caught up in the dinner itself I haven't been able to move beyond it." He kept any hint of teasing from his voice; he was done with the games and if it was his turn to direct their next move he was going to make it count. She was the master of innuendo and he loved the way she doled out her words, but wordplay would only get them so far, "I don't mind what we do, or where we go, I just want to spend the evening with you."

Even the hand on her knee wasn't enough to distract her from the naked exposure in his expression, and Kate felt the impact of his words thud in her chest. They were able to say so much with their eyes that she so often made do with quick glimpses and furtive glances. She felt captive to this openness between them; unable to look away.

She had stilled under his touch, her eyes dark and intent upon his. It was a look he could get used to seeing. "I can think of worse ways to spend an evening than curled up amongst a pile of cushions sharing dessert with you." It was an altogether pleasant image, "In fact the baggy sweatpants could even be optional."

He freed her with his joke – released the bounds of her enrapture – but still, it took her a moment to realise that her breathing was too shallow and that she needed to smile and look away; gather herself together.

Kate reached for her wine, the other hand brushing her hair back behind her ear. She blinked to clear her head of the image of them tangled together on his couch, and wondered if it were too soon to ask to see the dessert menu.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** Personally, I'd like some dessert too; either of the edible kind or of the tangled on the couch variety- i don't mind which.

If you're just joining us, or if you've gotten this far and haven't sent a review- Leave one! The first ten people to review will get... well, nothing actually, so i suppose there's no great motivation, except it makes me feel good! And i've loved giving you these 26,000 words of mine, a few words from you would be icing on the cake (which would be like dessert! Even if it's not edible and my couch is still empty).


	18. Chapter 17 Don't Run

**Alerts are back! **

lv2bnsb1, love that idea of them coming home to chaos! You should write that!  
>And, escapistrend et al – you're welcome. At the risk of 'spoiling' my own story you can all rest easy that there will be no body drop and no ill-timed interruptions. The whole interruptions thing has been done (done well, but done to death!) I'm going with the theory that, despite what it feels like on the show, people are not murdered every night in NYC!<p>

I'm writing (still tidying) up to ch21 and while i have no idea where they are going i'm not going to interrupt them. They seriously need some time to sort their shit out! Now i'm worried though if you're all expecting antics from Martha, and a car-chase on the way home from the restaurant, if my version is rather dull... ;p

**I'm thinking that this is toeing the line of a T rating? But, honestly, I don't know what 13-16year olds are comfortable reading these days. I'd appreciate some feedback though from anyone under 17 reading this. I'm happy to write a separate M rated chapter to keep this within guidelines. But if this already needs an M i'll change the whole story rating cos i can't write less-intimate than this and still tell the story.**

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 17 – Don't Run<p>

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><p>The walk back to his apartment was almost surreal. He'd kept their pace slow; meandering and unhurried, and she felt hazy with the newness of it, the confusing mish-mash of familiar and oh so different – his solid presence and the comfort of his words, but with the distraction of his fingers playing in her hair and his hip bumping hers as they walked.<p>

As they approached his building Kate felt a hint of uncertainty replace the pleasant flutter in her belly. She wanted to come up for his promised coffee and the dessert he carried – who was she kidding – she wanted to come up for more than dessert! But even with his arm draped over his shoulder and his voice soothing in her ear she couldn't see past the divide between them.

He'd kept her close; gathering her in towards him with the promise of more. But it was a gentle advance that kept her off balance and simmering. She didn't want to step into his loft with this coil of tension in her belly; the tension of not knowing, and of waiting for him to make a move – to make it real.

She wanted to stop walking. She wanted to just stand in the street and kiss him. She wanted his hands to claw away at that last layer of fear and doubt, and prove to her that they could work. But she didn't know how to start. She'd stopped fighting it! That should have been enough. But she didn't know how, after all this time, to take that final step.

"Kate?" his voice had taken on a hint of concern, and she tried to remember what they'd been talking about.

"Sorry, Castle, I got..." she hesitated, she got what? Distracted? Lost in her desire to have his hands on her skin? She fought a grimace. "I missed what you were saying."

"Hey," his voice was gentle, "Tonight has been amazing." He slowed his step and let his arm trail from around her shoulder and settled his hand at the base of her neck. His fingers rubbed firm against the tension along her muscles in a gesture meant to calm. "If you want to call it a night –"

"No!" she growled, and rounded on him shrugging the hand off of her back; it was exactly what she didn't want. "Castle, don't." She stepped in close, one foot in between his, and her palms came down hard onto his chest and then pressed up under his collar; something between a slap and a caress. "Don't step back. I don't know how to do this! I don't know how to get from here to there."

"Where are you trying to get to?" he asked tenderly, touching one hand lightly against her hip.

She didn't answer him, instead her eyes blazed at him; all anger and heat and passion.

He steadied her, gripped the sides of her jacket at her waist, and tried to ease her anxiety with nothing but the strength of his faith in them. The furrow of her brow remained and frustration radiated from her in waves. He led her away from the sidewalk and back into the shadows of the building's pillared facade. Dropping the takeaway bag he cupped her hips and turned her to fully face him. "You said not to go too fast." It wasn't a defence, he wasn't trying to justify himself, instead he tried to re-direct her away from the end result and bring her focus onto the journey they were starting.

"Faster than this!"

He grinned at her and, although he knew he shouldn't, he found it oddly gratifying to have her almost admit aloud that she wanted him.

"Really?" his hands slid slowly, purposely, around her hips to meet at the centre of her back. He pulled her in towards him until their stomachs pressed together and she was forced to relax against him.

Instead of kissing her he smiled, and Kate found it an annoyingly smug and far too happy smile.

"We don't need to get from here to there straight away, Kate, I think _here_ is starting to feel pretty good."

A disagreement was on the tip of her tongue, and then he was closing the gap, achingly slow, bringing his hand up to cradle the back of her head, until he was finally, _finally_, kissing her. His mouth closed gently over hers, tender and lingering, a tilt of his head brought his cheek to brush across the side of her nose and then he was turning back into her.

Her lips parted under his and she sought to deepen the kiss. His fingers scrunched in her hair and he captured her top lip, held her there, and trailed his tongue across it before releasing her and feathering another too-gentle kiss across her mouth – a promise of more.

Kate was left breathless; her mouth half open and panting against him. She'd imagined their first kiss would be full of fire and unrestrained passion, but this – the devotion and absolute affection and the ardour in his caress left her lightheaded.

He gave her no time to recover before his fingers were curling around the nape of her neck, his thumb brushing the skin below her ear leaving a trail of tingling warmth in its wake. She was only half aware of her answering moan and then he was kissing her again; capturing her, exploring her mouth while she revelled in the feel of him, the surprising softness of his lips, his tongue slow and hot against hers.

Kate's hands slipped under the lapel of his jacket, and slid around to the nape of his neck, seeking skin. She coiled her arms around him, and at the press of her breasts against the firm line of his chest she became aware of her heart beating wildly against her ribs.

Rick allowed his hand to snake along the length of her spine, sweeping over her back, encouraging her to settle against him. He wanted to savour the feel of her in his arms. The scent of her flooded his senses, each tiny gasp of breath and low moan threatened to send him spiralling into uncontrolled passion but even as he kissed her thoroughly he was determined to remain in control.

She ran the flat of her palm along the strong line of his jaw. Her fingers flexed against him as she wavered between her equal desire to surrender to his gentle invasion and to fight for dominance. She opened her mouth to him, hoping to draw him in, wanting to claim him. Instead it felt as though he was uncovering her layer by layer, shedding her of her armour as he deepened the kiss; his lips more demanding, sucking on her tongue, stroking her, tilting her head to allow himself greater access until she was fully exposed and desperate and wanting.

Heedless of their surroundings she pushed him flat against the wall and arched into him. Arousal flooded through her, and at the first press of his thigh between her legs a low keening vibrated through her throat.

"Upstairs, Castle, now!" she gasped out between kisses.

With a shuddering breath he brought the palms of his hands up to cup her face. It took a conscious effort to hold steady against her, breathing the same air, before he dropped a series of butterfly kisses from the corner of her mouth, across her cheek, until he reached her ear. He whispered against her skin, a soft shushing sound, and with his lips against the rim of her ear said, "Slow down, Kate."

She didn't feel like slow, and his position against her left his own ear exposed to her searching tongue. She flicked the tip across the sensitive ridges, sucked his lobe into her mouth, and with her breath hot against his throat growled into him, "I don't want slow."

"I thought I was taking the lead," he insisted, "We'll get there; we don't need to get there tonight." He dropped his hands to her throat, curled them around her shoulders with his thumbs disappearing under her scarf to tease at the bare skin he found there. "You need to be patient; just trust me."

Kate leaned her forehead against him, her breathing still too fast, "I would have thought you'd have had enough of being patient." She burrowed her hands between their bodies to splay her palms across his ribs, tracing tiny circles with the pads of her thumbs, unwilling to stop her exploration.

"I'm developing a new appreciation." He chuckled, and slid his forehead across hers to nuzzle at her temple.

She didn't want to be patient; she didn't want time to second guess herself. She'd fought her feelings for so long she didn't want to have to keep shutting it all in a box and pretending it was okay.

She could feel him smile into her skin, and the puff of breath against her hair as he laughed silently. She knew he was every bit as aroused as she was and she couldn't comprehend how he could be content to hold her against him and feather chaste kisses over her skin when she needed them naked; all hands and mouths and tongues.

"Are you enjoying this?" she accused, leaning away to see his face, hoping to understand.

"I'm enjoying this very much."

"Not _this_, this," she gestured between them, "I mean _me_, like this," a subtle tilt of her neck, a roll of her hips, and the widening of hers eyes said clearly what she meant; her, off-balance and aching with desire.

"I'm enjoying you like this too," he replied, deliberately misinterpreting her.

He studied her then, her confusion, her desire, and he sensed how close she was to being hurt by his actions. "Look at us," he said firmly, "_Feel_ us." He caressed her cheek, brought his lips to the side of her mouth, "This is how we start, Kate. This is the journey." He pressed another kiss directly on her lips and she returned the gentle pressure, "This is us – together. I don't need to be patient. I don't want to just wait this out or rush impatiently through it. I want to drown in this, you in my arms, my hands in your hair, your mouth on mine."

The intensity of emotion in his voice was nothing she'd ever heard from him before and Kate felt her throat constrict. She closed her eyes, buried herself against his chest and let go; a long exhale of air and emotion. A shuddering, "Oh, god," escaped from her, and she wrapped her arms tight around his back thinking he was right and she loved him for it. "You're right," she breathed out, "You're right."

"Come upstairs with me. Camp out in the loungeroom with tiramisu and a pile of blankets and pillows and just enjoy this." His hands rubbed up and down her back.

"Okay," she agreed, and she stepped back only far enough to let him gather up their food before she tucked herself under his arm and they closed the final few yards to his building together.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- if you're like Kate and rushing through it thinking that you need to get _there_ straight away, go back, slow down, read that scene again, and enjoy the kiss and the connection they're forging.

Castle's making a big call, but he's waited for her for years... if it was me i'd just want to spend the night revelling in it too; just enjoy the freedom to hug and touch and kiss and be without that god-damn wall! If you knew this was_ it_; the last first kiss, the last first date, the last courtship, the last first time together... i think you'd want to make it last forever.

Don't panic though! I'm not gonna make it last forever! Cos, really, that'd just be cruel and take far more commitment then i'm willing to give at this point with all the other story outlines sitting on my harddrive! *snort*


	19. Chapter 18 Why now?

Un-betaed. If you see errors feel free to let me know.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 18 – Why now?<p>

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><p>With Kate given the task of gathering plates, spoons, and a bottle of wine, Rick set about rearranging the furniture. He took the cushions off the couch and the side-chairs, gathered up his blanket as well as every pillow from his bedroom, and created a nest that was, quite plainly, built for lazing around and cuddling.<p>

He knew he'd essentially just re-created a bed in the living room, but the point was it was _in the living room._ While he suspected Kate could quite easily be an exhibitionist, given the right motivation, he knew she'd not risk Alexis walking in on them. If he was being honest he knew it was as much for his own benefit as hers, no matter how strongly he believed going from partners to lovers in less than twenty-four hours would be detrimental in the long run there was only so much a person could take.

He wanted to be able to commit to memory every gasp and every sigh, every kiss and every caress; he wanted a chance to learn to read her responses to his touch as well he knew her reactions to his words. More than anything he wanted her to wake up tomorrow, after everything they'd said and everything they'd shared, and have her look him in the eye and know that the wall around her heart was gone; no regrets and no looking back.

Kate finally joined him in the lounge and gave his efforts the once-over. She didn't comment on his rearranging the furniture but the purse of her lips as she repressed a smile made him glad of his decision.

She placed their wine glasses on the coffee table and poured two glasses. She didn't step onto the cushions with him, but her eyes were dark as she looked over at him. A hint of trepidation was still apparent in her expression, and he knew she was still finding her feet.

"Wasn't part of the plan to get you into something more comfortable?" he grinned, hoping to get her to loosen up.

"I do recall that being mentioned."

"Then go get changed; the sweats you wore this morning are still in my room if you want them."

"Actually," she hesitated, "I kind of have a bag in the car." She looked away and braced herself for his self-satisfied reply.

"You brought an overnight bag?" he asked.

The smirk on Castle's face was exactly what she wanted to avoid, and she didn't bother to reply with anything other than a stern glare.

"Did you bring sexy pyjamas on our first date?" He took a swaggering step towards her, stopping just out of her reach.

"No, I brought my toothbrush." There may have been some rather appealing sleepwear in there as well but she wasn't going to bring that up now.

"Want me to run down and get it for you?" he offered.

"Are you going to snoop at what's in there?"

"Quite possibly."

"I'll go." She took a hesitant step forward, still unsure where their physical boundaries lay, and reached out towards him. Rick closed the distance with a half-step and met her questing hand. With his skin against hers, and no uncertainty in the thumb that brushed over her fingers, she found the confidence to touch him. She stroked her other hand from the centre of his chest down over his stomach to hook through a loop at his belt, "but you should definitely be wearing something else when I get back." Kate didn't pause with her kiss. She might be feeling out of her depth when it came to discussing where they stood with each other but she was well aware of the result of the ever-escalating innuendo between them.

Rick drew her in closer and, without letting go of her hand, wrapped his arms low around her back. He let himself enjoy the moment, her lips soft and yielding; no longer battling. She nipped at his mouth, circled teasingly with her tongue, and he could feel the change in her body – knew she was content to delight in the experience of them. With the steady thrum of attraction and longing they'd endured for so long now made tangible it had become something shared; and made wonderful by the act of sharing.

It made him want to pick her up and spin her around in circles. Instead he tightened his arms and pulled her into him, lifting slightly and leaning back until she was on the very tip of her toes and grinning against his mouth. She pressed the hand that was trapped between them into his stomach, a silent plea to let her down, and then she was giggling against him; free and relaxed and oh-so-beautiful.

"I don't know if I've told you," he said between light kisses, "but I find you extraordinary."

"I vaguely remember reading something about that," she kissed the hard line of his jaw and stepped out of the circle of his arms, "I don't recall where, a random book I picked up at some point I suppose."

He refused to be baited by her, even if she did know that disparaging his work was one sure-fire way to get him to react. "Go," He shooed her away. "Get your sexy lingerie, and come back for dessert."

She knew his attention would be fixed on her and she waited until she was at the door before turning back, "I don't think you're ready for the sight of me in sexy lingerie, Castle," she said, and winked at him.

Rick stared mutely at the door even after it had clicked shut behind her thinking that he agreed with her; Kate Beckett in lingerie was not going to be something easily recovered from, but he was damn sure willing to try, and then his eyes began a mad dart around the room as if looking for someone to share the moment with; she'd winked at him!

###

Before changing, as ordered, he headed upstairs to find Alexis and let her know he was home. The young woman was sprawled out on her bed, earphones in, with a book and her phone lying on the pillow in front of her.

He knocked loudly on her open door and waited for her to look up.

"Dad, you're home!" she sat up, cross-legged, on the bed. "How was your date?" she asked, excited.

Rick paused, considering, and tried to think of the best way to answer, but his unabashed smile was enough of a reply.

"Oh, Dad," she stepped off the bed and embraced him, "I'm so glad! Is Kate still here?"

"She's just ducked downstairs, she'll be back up in a moment. We brought dessert back from Angelo's."

"Will she be staying?"

Rick frowned severely, trying for indignant offense, "What must you think of me?" he asked dramatically, "On our first date!"

"Please." Alexis rolled her eyes – far too much like Beckett.

"I'm not sure, pumpkin," he said, suddenly serious, "it's all new and this isn't something I intend to get wrong."

The girl's eyes shone with something akin to pride, and she laid her head on his shoulder for just an instant. "Is it okay if I come down later? Just to say hi?"

"Very okay," he assured her.

"I promise not to sneak up on you," she said, cheekily.

"Probably a good idea." He gave his eyebrows a good waggle before making his escape.

###

It seemed somehow ridiculous to have spent so much time fussing over her hair and standing in front of the mirror trying on and discarding shirts earlier in the evening only to now be changing into casual clothing. Kate wished she'd packed boxer shorts or tights or something that could be considered friendly pyjamas suitable for hanging out under blankets amidst Castle's pile of pillows, but she had assumed she'd either be alone in the guest room, in which case she'd be happy to fall back on lingerie and lace to torture him further, or in his bedroom, deliciously naked.

Kate looked down at herself, wearing linen pants and t-shirt, and then at the black lace peeking out of her bag, and she shook her head at herself. She'd never really envisioned their current stand-off which made cleavage and long expanses of leg inappropriate.

She would have liked the added confidence that feeling sexy gave her; but she'd much rather save it for when they could both enjoy it. If there was one thing she didn't need to feel tonight it was more desire; she was close to losing all sense of rational thought as it was.

They'd been so close for so long she thought she knew Castle almost inside and out, but he'd been a revelation to her over the course of the night. He'd proven himself – his determination and resolve – countless times throughout their partnership but she'd never truly stepped back and let him be the one to call the shots, and to have him step up now and set the pace of their relationship was liberating and, quite frankly, sexy as hell.

His puppy-dog eyes and eagerness to please was adorable, on some level, but Kate had always responded better to an equal partnership.

Closing up her bag with the idle thought of 'next time,' she left it in the corner and headed back to the loungeroom and the remainder of her date.

Rick was sitting on the floor amongst his crazy pile of cushions, a light blanket over his knees, their wine and tiramisu within easy reach on the glass coffee table. He had music playing; soulful and melodic, and she vaguely recognised it although she couldn't place the artist. A fleeting memory of Bolero had her smiling. He caught her broad grin and cocked his head at her in question.

"Nothing, I was just wondering if things would go differently if you had Bolero playing," she said, coming to stand at the edge of the carpet and eyeing the pillows apprehensively.

He chuckled, appreciating the reference, "Do you doubt my ability to close the deal, Detective?" He patted the cushion beside him.

"Not in the least; rumours of your charm precede you." Kate stepped over the improvised mattress. She wasn't sure if creating a bed for them in full view of his teenage daughter was going to solve the problem or create a new one.

"Really? That's good to know. I was beginning to doubt that you'd noticed."

She dropped down next to him, the base of the couch at their backs and legs extended, and shuffled under the blanket, "I'd noticed," she replied, letting a hint of teasing back into her voice.

"What exactly had you noticed?"

"Really? Rick Castle – fishing for compliments," She couldn't resist an eye roll, even if she knew there was too much humour in her in both her voice and her expression to carry any weight.

"Not compliments, just..." he turned serious, "Just wondering I suppose."

"Wondering about..." Kate had an idea where he was going with the conversation, but she doubted her own ability to give him the answers he wanted.

"I don't, for one minute, believe that it was my charm that finally..."

"Finally got me into your bed?"

"No, the bed part I understand; you would have been welcome there without the rest. I suppose I'm just curious as to why now? It's not like we haven't been through worse cases than last night."

Kate tried to find the words to explain her own personal revelation, "A gradual build-up of faith maybe, or perhaps just a slow erosion of that wall that I've felt inside me for so long? I don't know, Castle. I'm not sure if there was one singular event. I just woke up in your arms and knew I never wanted to leave." The words were out before she'd had the chance to filter them and almost immediately she regretted her uncontrolled honesty.

It might not have been an 'I love you', but it was close enough that she felt her heart skip a beat and a sudden knot form in her stomach.

Rick saw her rising anxiety, and he dropped his wine glass heedlessly onto the coffee table. The base clanked noisily but he paid no attention; his focus solely on his partner. With sure hands he gripped her knees, and spun her around gently so she had no choice but to look at him. In an instant he had shuffled in closer, his thighs pressed in under her folded legs, and one hand, reassuring, on the outside of her hip.

"We don't talk about it and, while I can't say I'm happy about that, I have understood why; but it's time, Kate." At the panicked look on her face he softened his voice, "I don't mean tonight, and I don't mean all at once; we _both_ have things that need to be said." He curled his fingers around her hip, his thumb tracing circles in the valley against her hipbone, "We wouldn't be who we are if we didn't have issues that need to be worked through, but while we wait to get to those issues – you're safe here. You don't need to keep erecting barriers. It's time to start saying what needs to be said."

Kate allowed the surety in his voice to lull her. There was no real surprise in anything she'd said. She'd come to terms with the transformation within herself that morning, and it was reasonable to assume that Castle knew she wasn't considering this as a temporary or casual change in their relationship.

Instead of being afraid she was suddenly annoyed at herself for being so quick to take flight. Even if she didn't lay herself bare all in one night she still owed it to him to be honest about her feelings. In the heartbeat that it took her to readjust her thinking she gathered up her determination to do it right; to take the leap that she'd always promised herself she'd make.

Rick studied the flash and play of emotions across her face; too quick to read. Even without any external motivation he would have been unable to look away, but her hand had snaked out from under the blankets to run along the length of his arm, bunching tightly in the material covering his bicep, and it had him anchored in place.

"Castle," she said, her voice heavy with emotion, "I woke up in your arms this morning, and I _knew_ I never wanted to leave," she repeated, deliberate and sure this time.

His breath caught in his throat and it took him a too-long moment to respond. When his neurons resumed firing he leaned forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, dragged her onto his lap and crushed her to him. It was beyond anything he'd expected to hear from her; either tonight or any time in the near future.

"I don't mean literally; I'm going to have to go to work," she said with an unsteady laugh, "and I'm certainly not moving in, that would just be ridiculous," she added, mumbling as if talking to herself, "but I don't want the distance back, I want to keep that connection, and that closeness," her face wrinkled as if she'd managed to confuse herself. "Does that make sense?"

"I don't care if it makes sense," Rick replied with his nose buried in her hair; breathing her in, "I like the sound of it anyway."

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- whose thinking that if they woke up in Castle's arms they wouldn't be leaving either?

I have to get off Twitter! Seriously! I only just discovered Castle-world on there recently but it's just sucking my writing time into a huge blackhole filled with images of Stana. And, crazy-but-true, I can't not click on the tumblr links cos i know it's going to be more amazing eye rolls or hairporn and it's just addictive. I had hours to write today and i swear to god i'd type one sentence and click back to twitter or tumblr. This insanity has to stop! (as soon as people stop posting Stana gifs) or i'm going to find story updates slowing down!


	20. Chapter 19 Conversation and Kisses

unbeta'ed. hit me up with corrections if i need 'em.

I think i'm getting a little behind on my review replies, and i may have gotten lost when FFnet played up the other day so if i haven't said thanks or started up an inane conversation with you then consider this your thank you and the most inane of all possible inane conversations! LOL!

But i found the off button on Twitter (well, the pause button anyway) and managed to write enough that i'm not too terrified about posting two chapters tonight... so... there you go.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 19- Conversation and Kisses<p>

A loud clomping echoed from the stairs and Rick almost laughed out loud at his daughter.

"That's Alexis," he said in answer to Kate's quizzical expression, "She said she wanted to say hi, but didn't want to sneak up on us."

"I suppose that would constitute not sneaking."

"Is this okay?" Rick asked, glancing down at the leg that Kate had hooked over his and the lack of distance between them as they shared their single plate of dessert.

"It's fine, Castle," she assured him, and briefly touched his thigh to assure him she wasn't running. The ground she'd covered in her own battle with her need to touch him had been too hard-won for her to voluntarily give it up now.

Kate had no reason to want to hide the change in their relationship from Alexis. Castle had always seemed upfront with his daughter and she wanted to follow his example. If there was anything to work through she thought it best to deal with it openly, and so far Alexis had not given her any reason to think that she might be against having her around more often.

Although they were both looking over their shoulder waiting on her approach they still heard her voice before she came into view over the back of the couch.

"Hey, Dad, Kate, I thought I'd come say goodnight..." she trailed off as they came into view, "You made a bird's nest?" she asked, her face alive with delight.

"It seemed like the night for it," Rick said, he slid the plate he held onto the coffee table, and then opened his free arm out to his daughter and invited her to sit.

Kate looked between them, loving the expression he got on his face when he shared memories with his daughter. When the girl directed her smile to include her as well she felt blessed to be a part of the moment.

"We haven't done this in years," Alexis revealed, snuggling in under her father's arm.

"You grew out of it," Rick pouted.

"I never did! I suppose I just haven't been sick enough to want laze around for days."

"It seems to work even when you're not sick," Kate told her.

"Well, maybe when you stay over again we could get ice-cream and do it properly."

"Are you suggesting we're not doing it properly this time?" Castle asked, offended.

"Well, there's the lack of ice-cream for one thing, and you should be in pyjamas, and there's no towering pile of books, and there are still pillows upstairs; this is really only half the experience."

Kate laughed at the warmth and welcome behind the girl's words. "Then we will have to do it again properly with you."

"Good, one weekend maybe?" she agreed, happily. She patted her hand on Rick's shoulder and said, "I'll be up early tomorrow so I'll see you for breakfast. I want to be back before Grams get home."

"Oh, honey, are you sure? Wouldn't you rather give her the afternoon to call her friends? If you're here you'll only end up hearing _all_ about it." Rick shivered with mock-fear.

"Dad!"

"Don't say I didn't warn you!"

"I'm happy to support her in expanding her repertoire, and it sounds like the workshop has been inspirational so far."

"Then let me say this, should you need someone to save you – do not call me – I'll be busy solving crimes."

"I'm sure we can do without him if he's needed here." Kate said, enjoying their interaction.

"Don't think you'll be getting out of it, Beckett, I'll tell Mother you said you'd love to hear about it – in detail – over dinner tomorrow; and you know she won't take no for answer."

"Then it's a good thing that I _would_ love to hear about it."

"She'd love that," Alexis said immediately, "I'll tell Grams you'll be here for dinner then."

Kate admired the way she'd been finagled into another family dinner and her smile was genuine when she nodded in acceptance, "If I don't have to work, I'll be here."

Castle's hand found hers and he gave her fingers a squeeze; a silent thank you.

"Goodnight, you two." Alexis said as she clambered off the soft cushions. She patted her Dad's shoulder affectionately and offered a timid smile to Kate.

They echoed her goodnights. Kate was silent and she waited as her partner's eyes followed his daughter from the room. He turned back to her with his eyes brimming with emotion.

"Thanks."

"What for?"

"For understanding that I come as a package, and for accepting what Alexis is trying to offer."

"You don't ever need to thank me for that," she replied, and laid her head against his shoulder.

###

"Ah, this one is a true masterpiece," Rick said with a breathy chuckle and he passed over the plastic binder, "Long before I met the extraordinary Kate Beckett I was writing about a brave New York City detective."

Their dessert plate was all-but licked clean, the bottle of wine – their second for the evening – lay forgotten, and the stereo had kicked over, unnoticed, to Sting's Best Of album a half hour ago. Oblivious to it all the pair lay on their backs, heads together, spread out across the improvised mattress. Scattered around them were old notebooks, binders, and scrawl-covered pieces of paper; the evolution of Richard Castle – writer.

Kate flipped the binder open and almost laughed out loud at the child's sketches along the margins and the neatly penned story attributed to Ricky Rodgers.

"You were, what, ten when you wrote this?" she asked, turning her head so her cheek pressed flat on the cushion.

"It was but a mere suggestion of the vast talent that would emerge," he extolled.

Kate ignored the man's ego and turned her attention to the creativity of the little boy that, even at ten, already dreamed of solving mysteries, and dinosaurs, and alien conspiracies. Warm fondness curled in her belly as she read through the short story he'd written so long ago; a glimpse into the mind of the man beside her.

She got to the final page – the sudden death of the badguy and the unresolved threat of an alien landing – and laughed at the boldly underlined 'The End'.

"Even back then you knew how to leave your audience wanting more," she said, meaning more than just the story, "Is there a sequel?"

"No more from Detective Hammer, sadly enough, but I think I've learnt a thing or two since about continuation."

She placed the binder beside her on the mattress, and bumped his knee with her own, "What else have you got?"

"I'm not sure," he grabbed a notebook at random and opened it, "Hmmm, oh, this was almost like a prelude to In a Hail of Bullets." He skimmed through several pages before finding what he was looking for, "Murder and drama behind the curtain of Broadway."

Kate leaned over to read the jotted notes, and Rick held the book up, his arms extended above them, so they could both see.

He chuckled under his breath at something and Kate waited, knowing a story was coming.

"I would sneak around backstage listening in to all sorts of private conversations and then weave it all into an elaborate tale of betrayal and intrigue; let me tell you there is no shortage of drama in the theatre."

Reading through the scribbled snippets of dialogue and plot outlines Kate had to wonder how much was the overheard exploits of Broadway divas and how much had come out of the intricate imaginings of a pre-teen Ricky Rodgers.

"I can imagine you; sneaking into the ladies change room."

"Of course! That's where all the best scandals were uncovered."

"Is your notebook from your first weeks shadowing me in this pile somewhere?" Kate asked, curious to see what notes he'd made about her.

Rick plonked his childhood journal down beside him and rolled onto his side. Kate turned her head to look at him, their faces only inches apart. His eyes sparkled with humour but Kate recognised the deviousness of his expression far too easily. His arm curled low over her belly and it distracted her enough that his voice was almost a surprise.

"You want to know my first impressions of Detective Beckett? Because that came even before I manipulated my way into the tag-alongs. I must have filled a dozen napkins and the margins of countless promotional flyers with the conception of Nikki Heat; you certainly made an impact. Actually, I had to replace a study text from Alexis' school after I scribbled all over the blank chapter pages when it was all I thought to grab in the back of a cab one night."

"And how many of those fevered observations were based on reality?"

"Ah, Beckett, I think you vastly underestimate your beguiling qualities."

"Hmmm," she ran her fingers over the ridge of his brow and trailed them lightly over his temple, "I know I underestimated yours."

"Really?" he propped himself up on one elbow and leaned over her.

He was taken aback at the genuine affection and pleasure in her expression; the quirk of her lips, pressed together and twitching with an amused smile, and her eyes alive with emotion. He couldn't resist leaning in to kiss her, could hardly believe that he no long _had_ to resist.

Kate's hands were at the sides of his face, fingers scratching through his hair to cup the back of his head and guide him in before he'd even found her lips. The kiss had been intended as a wordless thank you, an acknowledgement of her willingness to stop hiding, but they were both too exposed, the skin between them rubbed raw; they never stood a chance. Safe in the privacy of his loft, and without the pressure of a first kiss and not knowing where they stood, he made sure to show her how he felt.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- i'd never really babbled endlessly about nothing until writing this fic. I usually prefer to write actiony stuff or pointless sex scenes... but having been given permission to blabber on and on with the fluff i seem to just keep going. Thank god the next chapter has slightly more substance.

Oh, and if you haven't seen the adorable story of Detective Hammer you should check it out.

Leave a review! They make me grin like a crazy person, and that makes the people around me laugh a little, and then other people start smiling... and so it might end up all the way back to you.


	21. Chapter 20 Fears

Skating that boundary between T and M here folks, if you're hesitant about it PM me and i can make up a different version for you. I don't think it's gratuitous, though...?

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 20- Fears<p>

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><p>The kiss escalated far too quickly from a heartfelt caress to smouldering passion. He traced the edge of her lip with his tongue, and she opened to him instantly. She clutched at his shirt, pulling him in, and then he was kissing her deeply. With hands and mouths exploring they became tingling warmth and wetness and hot breath and aching need.<p>

Rick paused, panting against her, only long enough to catch his breath. He tilted his head and caressed her with a soft brush of cheek on cheek. She was instantly pressing up into him, and it was her turn to uncover his secrets, force him to open to her, her tongue skimming across his teeth, lips feather-light, and then demanding once more; gentle and fierce.

His hand settled over the curve of her side, his thumb constantly moving, circling, and teasing at the sensitive skin below her breast. She rolled into him slightly, just enough to feel the hint of pressure along their lengths.

He sucked on her bottom lip, drew it into his mouth and dragged his teeth across the soft pink flesh. Amidst it all they found their rhythm; their ebb and flow, give and take, battle and surrender, and they took turns exploring one another.

He never doubted they'd be good together, but he marvelled at her responsiveness to him and the perfect synchronicity of their matching desire.

He circled higher with his thumb, knowing how close he was skimming the curve of her breast. She arched into him, encouraging, wanting his hands on her as much as he did. He knew they were close to crossing a line they'd have trouble returning from and he slowed his kisses, not stopping, just hoping to bring them both under control.

Kate recognised his actions and resisted. She rolled in closer, pressing her chest into him, her arms curling around his head and shoulders. His hand slid to find the softness of her breast. A moan rumbled from her throat and Rick's hand moved without any instruction from him; his palm stroked over her, one smooth movement, and then he came back for more, cupping and squeezing gently, his thumb rubbing sideways across her nipple until she was breathless and moaning, her mouth frantic against his.

The taste of her, the warmth and softness of her mouth, the tiny moans and breathy sighs she made led him almost to distraction. The urge to press his hips into her was almost overwhelming. He throbbed with arousal and the brush of her legs against him was driving him dangerously close to ignoring all common sense.

With more willpower than he thought he possessed he forced himself back, breaking their kiss noisily, and she growled at him in protest.

He would have chuckled at her frustrated pout if he wasn't feeling every bit of her agony himself.

"My god, you're incredible," his voice was rough and raw.

"It's not me," she replied, equally unsteady. "I think you could make me come just from your kisses alone."

His cock twitched at her words and he fell across her chest, utterly defeated, "Kate," he growled out, "Not fair, so incredibly not fair."

"You said I should be honest about how I feel, and I feel like I'm on fire." Her voice was sultry in his ear, it was as though she were testing him; tempting him to break his resolve and his commitment to guide them through the minefield they'd created of their relationship.

"And you should; I mean it, Kate, don't ever stop telling me."

With a sigh that was almost a moan, Kate relaxed, felt the tightly clenched muscles along her body start to loosen. She embraced him, holding him against her, and gave them both time to lay together and adjust to the intimacy; gave their bodies a chance to find a new balance.

"I'm sick of all the barriers between us, Castle," she said after a long quiet minute, and she tugged at his shirt, even though she meant far more than just his shirt.

"The barrier is so thin as to hardly be there, Kate. You were afraid of this for so long, give us a chance to feel what it's like to be without the fear," he asked of her.

"I don't feel so afraid of this anymore," she admitted.

He rolled to lie beside her, and her arms fell away from his back. He pushed up onto his elbow again, leaning over her, and met her gaze, "Then talk to me. Tell me what you _aren't_ afraid of anymore?"

Kate puzzled over his question for a moment. There had always been a cloud of panic surrounding her when she had imagined allowing them this chance. She wanted forever-after and she couldn't afford to get it wrong. She tried to find and catalogue the many indistinct fears, and she almost smiled when she realised one of the doubts he'd already laid to rest.

She had been afraid that if she let go of the fierce rein of control she'd kept on herself there would be nothing to stop them from charging head-first and unrestrained into chaos. She had wanted them to leap together, but with eyes wide open. "I'd been afraid that I needed to be the one with the plan. I thought if I didn't know how the story ended, and where we were going, that we'd just jump blindly without checking to see if there was something there to catch us."

"And you're not afraid of that anymore?" He allowed his free hand to skim over the soft skin below her ear, his fingers carding through her hair.

She smiled at him, knowingly, "You've already caught us."

"Then what else aren't you afraid of anymore?"

"I thought we'd lose ourselves in each other."

Castle leaned back from her to read her expression and waited for her to continue.

"I had let my mom shape my life for so long, and I was afraid that if I went from that, into this, that I wouldn't know who I was as _me_."

"And you're not afraid of that anymore?"

He seemed more uncertain this time, and she ran her hand over his shoulder, using more than just words to reassure him, "No, I'm not. I needed help to get there, but I'm stronger now." It wasn't all that long ago that she had felt like she was crumbling apart from the inside, shattering into pieces, but that had been just another turning point. "And I know that I don't always have to be strong."

"You're not afraid to ask for help, or to ask for what you need."

"I'm getting there."

"What else aren't you afraid of anymore?"

"I'm not afraid of being..." she searched for the words, and when she floundered and started to look away he guided her back to him. His belief in her was apparent in the strength of his gaze and she used it to bolster herself. She took a breath and raised her hands to his chest, "I'm not afraid of not being enough, of not having enough to offer you."

"You don't need to offer me anything, Kate."

"Oh, but I do," the corners of her mouth twitched up, "And I think I can now that I've found myself again."

"You've found who you are?"

"And who I want to be; who I can be without the shadows."

"Shadows?"

"I'm not afraid of the shadows." She propped herself up so they were on the same level, knowing it was important to say this without him leaning over her. She'd never intended to reveal her nightmares and she needed him looking _at _her, not down upon her, even if she did feel safe with his body spread above her.

"I'm not afraid of that faceless dragon. I used to have nightmares, and I would wake, drenched in sweat and shaking; even awake I'd have a hard time shaking off the dread. It was like I could feel fingers clawing at me and there were always figures in the shadows and I could never save you." She brought her hand up to press flat against his chest. His physical presence both soothed and motivated her.

"Every time, I did something wrong and I lost you, or they took you, or Alexis, or you were left to watch me die," She left the warmth of his chest to smooth the lines of anguish from his brow, "I couldn't accept that I had dragged you into this life, and that, if it wasn't for me, you would be safe."

Rick reached for her hand, bought it back to his chest, and tangled his fingers in hers to hold her against him, "I don't even want to think about where I would be, or the kind of man I would be, if it wasn't for you. You've given me so much, Kate."

"But I've also taken so much from you."

"It's been given willingly." He lifted her fingers to his mouth and brushed a kiss over the back of her knuckles, refusing to look away, "But you're not afraid of those shadows anymore?"

"The shadows are still there, but I'm not alone in the darkness anymore. In the dreams there's fear and there's loss and there's anger; but it's not just me fighting it – we're doing it together, facing it together. So the nightmares come less often, and they don't have the same kind of power over me."

"And you're okay with that? With doing it together?"

"I used to be afraid of that too, but we work better together."

"I've always thought so," he smiled, and brushed his lips across her knuckles once more. "That slow erosion you mentioned, the crumbling of the wall when you weren't paying attention... maybe you were too close to it to see, maybe you needed to step back and let someone else work on taking it down."

She got the sense he was talking about more than just the emotional impasse she'd created for herself. "What do you mean?"

"I'm just saying perhaps you don't need to shoulder the responsibility alone, maybe it's okay to let someone else do some heavy lifting, let someone else lead, for just a little while."

"I'm _not_ doing it alone; and it's not just someone else – it's you, Castle. You're doing a pretty good job at leading so far."

The silence hung around them, neither comforting nor unsettling, just the weight of words settling.

"Kate, what are you _still _afraid of?"

She took a deep breath in through her nose and looked away. She tried to sort through the echoes of previous fears to find what still weighted her down, what kept her from the declarations and promises she still hoped to be able to make. One day.

"I'm afraid we'll ruin what we already have."

"What do we already have?"

She looked at him, confused, "We have this," she gestured between them.

"We didn't have this yesterday. What were we – before?"

"Everything. You're my best friend, Castle. My partner. The work we do together..." she tried to find a way to explain her apprehension, "I like having you at my side. Your mind," she groaned into his shoulder, "At the risk of inflating your ego even further, you're brilliant, and I love watching your mind work. We catch the bad guys, Castle, you and me; and I've never had this with anyone else, I wouldn't _want _it with anyone else. I know it's not _all_ we are, but it's become important to me. I don't want to lose my partner because we were too greedy and we wanted too much."

"And you're afraid that if we try for more, we'll ruin what we already have?"

"Aren't you?"

"Hmmm, not in the same way; I'm not going to pretend I'm not scared, but I'm afraid of doing something to risk this; the chance for this between us. Me being at the precinct?" he shook his head,  
>"I never imagined I'd be able to cram myself into your world for so long. Seriously, I can't believe I haven't been kicked out long before now. But I will be your partner for as long as you let me. You won't lose that."<p>

"You don't think things will change between us?"

"I hope they do."

"At work, I mean, do you think we can do this at home, and just be Beckett and Castle at work?"

His fingers played at the ends of her hair, "Crime-fighting duo?"

"Yeah, crime-fighting duo."

"You want to give it a go?"

"I do."

"Then let's see if we can lay this one fear to rest. Let's go in tomorrow and work on solving this case, and then come home and have dinner and do this some more," he lay back down on the cushions and brought her with him until she settled over his chest. Then he kissed her again, slow and serious.

"Can we do this somewhere more private, tomorrow?" Kate asked, her lips brushing against his mouth as she spoke.

"Is my living room not private enough for you?"

"Not even close," she growled, and kissed him again.

###

They lay together, side by side, fingers tangling, and words fewer and far between. The music had been turned down low, the lights were out, and with their eyes closed a new kind of peacefulness settled over them.

"Are we going to stay out here all night?" Kate whispered into the darkness.

"I'm too comfy to want to move."

"I need to get some sleep. If tomorrow is supposed to be an evaluation of our new partnership I feel like I should do it on more than four hours sleep."

"You can't sleep here?"

"I can't sleep anywhere with you this close at the moment, Castle; and if you're determined to prevent me from getting naked with you I think the safest place for me is upstairs."

He was silent beside her for too long. She forced her tired eyes open and rolled to face him.

"That wasn't meant to be an ultimatum. I would gladly lay here with you until the sun came up if we could laze around together tomorrow; but we can't. We've still got three murders to solve."

"And you can't sleep with me here?"

"I don't know how you can. You've had my body tingling for hours. I am far too wound up to be able to relax with you this close."

"Years of practice."

"I don't want any more practice."

"But you're okay with this?"

"Very okay."

"Then let's go to bed, separately, and then wake up and start in on doing the rest of it together."

###

Castle stood beside his bed, his huge empty bed, and shook his head at himself. He didn't think sleep was likely regardless of where Kate was tonight. At least in his arms he'd have some chance at reassuring himself that she was not going to slip away, disappear with his return to consciousness. As he slid under the sheets he replayed their conversation and gathered in tight every nuance that went unspoken.

He knew it had taken courage for her to entrust their journey to him. She didn't relinquish control easily. She spoke of shadows and fingers clawing at them in the dark and he thought of controlling phonecalls and clandestine meetings; the spectre of the secrets he kept in order to keep those shadowy figures from touching her.

His mind returned to the lifeless murderboard in his study, and he wished for the countless time that he could turn it off for good, erase its memory, and create a scrapbook of happy images instead.

They'd been talking about something else entirely, but he hoped that she would understand his reasons for chipping away at this particular wall on her behalf. And he wished desperately for a way to tell her without shattering her trust and ending their chance at more before it even began.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

A/N- Ergh! I had no intention of stepping into the hornet's nest that is "The Secret" when i started this fic. But apparently here i go anyway.

Wish us all luck...


	22. Chapter 21 Good morning, My Heart

I couldn't see any natural place to split this so i'm posting it all as one chapter, but it's more than i'm able to write in one day at the moment with work commitments. so fingers crossed i can find time to write more tomorrow to keep ahead of you!

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 21- Good morning, My Heart :)<p>

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><p>Sleep had been slow to come when she finally made it to bed, and the gentle buzz of the alarm clock interrupted a far too pleasant dream, but as she rolled over to turn off the insistent beeping Kate was already smiling. The pillow was soft under her cheek, pale golden light filtering in through the thin gaps of the curtain, the muffled sounds of movement from along the hallway; she might not be waking in his arms but, waking with her senses alive with his home and his family, the distance between them felt minuscule.<p>

Stretching, and then slipping out from under the blankets, she gathered her things together and walked quietly towards the bathroom.

Alexis met her as she was closing the door to her room, and she seemed instantly concerned, "You slept in the guest room?" she asked without any attempt at a morning greeting.

"Is that okay? You seemed fine with..."

"I am! I just thought you'd have..." A blush rose on her cheeks and she glanced down the stairs.

"Oh, well," Kate searched for something to say, "I could have. I'd have been happy to, even. It's just..."

"You want to take it slow." Alexis nodded understandingly.

Kate didn't think Castle's daughter needed to know that she most definitely did not want to take it slowly, and she couldn't even fathom the words to explain how her father had managed to convince her to wallow in the ecstasy of his kisses instead of demanding more; more skin, and more heat, and more of anything he had to offer.

She felt an answering flush of embarrassment and the two women stood awkwardly in the hallway together, edging around a conversation neither was sure how to have.

"I wanted to do it right," Kate said finally, deciding something had to be said to move on.

"I understand. Dad said the same thing."

"He did?" The conversation was suddenly more interesting.

"Yeah, he knows better than to stuff this one up."

"It's not like he's the only one with a bad track record," she admitted.

"You're good for him, Kate."

She wished that were true, but the conversation they'd had last night was too fresh in her mind to ignore all the ways she had, and still could, hurt him. "I haven't always been."

"That was circumstance," Alexis said, as willing to forgive as her father.

"You're being more gracious than I think I would be in your situation."

"I suppose I've had a chance to see him both with you, and without you, and as much as the work you do together scares me I'm starting to understand why you have to do it."

"Thank you," Kate replied, sincerely.

"You're going to stick around?"

"I have to head into work straight after breakfast."

"No, I mean after."

The question still made her heart beat faster, but she was even more determined to justify the girl's faith in her. "Yeah, Alexis, I'm going to stick around."

"Good. Then I'll see you downstairs for breakfast in a bit," she smiled, and continued towards the stairs.

Kate escaped to the bathroom. The conversation with Alexis had, at least, served to remove the still-lingering sense of arousal she'd woken with, but it reminded her that there was more to focus on than the way he made her feel. Regardless of how good that was.

She couldn't help but feel positive about the way they'd started things. She felt like nothing was impossible, as if by doing away with all the pretending and the false distance they'd imposed upon one other they could start clean. Laying down her old fears and allowing him to help her through the rest had given her more courage to face her mistakes than she'd thought possible. Even knowing that there was more they had to get past first, she had never felt so certain in their ability to do it together.

She didn't waste any time in the shower. She made do with a quick wash to refresh herself and then she dressed for work, applied her makeup, and did her best to arrange her hair without letting herself fuss unreasonably. She wanted to step downstairs and take the coffee and the good morning kiss that she knew was waiting for her.

###

A discordant and out-of-place generic ringtone sounded over the sizzle of eggs and bacon, and both Rick and Alexis looked around the room for the source.

"Is that Kate's?" Alexis asked.

"Oh, no, that's me," Rick said, remembering his new factory-default iPhone. He turned the heat down on the stove and wiped his hands, curious to see who was calling; his usual provider of early morning calls was upstairs in the shower.

"Who did you choose _that _ringtone for?"

"I didn't. It's a new phone; I lost my other one and I only just got the replacement late yesterday." He grabbed the phone and looked at the caller ID before snapping out a cheery, "Castle."

"Hey, Bro," Esposito said on the other end, "Thought you might like to know the Long Island office of the DEA picked up Reynolds early this morning. They're taking a run at him now but said they'd send him our way once they were done. They got some more for us on their connection with The Horsemen, too."

"Nice," Castle replied, glad to hear it but unsure why Esposito was calling him, "Er, not that I don't appreciate the information, but why are you telling _me_?"

"Beckett hasn't got a new cell issued yet and apparently there's been no answer at her place this morning. We thought if you happened to run into her, ya know, _around_... you might let her know."

Castle pressed his lips together, physically restraining himself from answering while his brain processed potential replies, "Ooookay." He said, vaguely.

"Will she get the message?" Esposito persisted, his voice serious, and Rick assumed he was trying to see if news of Beckett missing from her apartment was cause for alarm.

"I'll make sure."

"Hmm, you do that," he said, before the line went dead.

Castle couldn't decipher his tone. He was using his if-you-mess-with-me-I'll-break-you voice, but it seemed there was a trace of amusement there as well. He dropped his phone back onto the side table knowing he'd be in for some razzing from the boys once they arrived at the precinct. He wasn't sure how much information Kate would be comfortable sharing, and he cursed the fact that working with a bunch of trained detectives made keeping anything private almost impossible.

Except, oh! His mouth formed a panicked circle and his eyes opened wide. He'd just realised his first conversation was going to have to be with Beckett when he passed on Esposito's message.

###

He'd set the table for three, and he plated up breakfast for Alexis, encouraging her to begin without them. Guessing that Kate wouldn't be much longer he started on coffee. He was busy at the machine when he heard his daughter's greeting from the dining room, and he turned to watch Kate walk across the room towards him; she was biting her lip and from the swell of her cheeks he could tell she was holding back a smile. The sight of her was enough to have him grinning, and that was all it took for her smile to burst free.

She laughed silently and dipped her head, her hair spilling over her shoulders, and then peeked up at him; it was a side of her glimpsed so rarely, all timid smiles and flushed cheeks, and it was very much a sight he decided he could get used to seeing early in the morning.

He finished frothing the milk just as she stepped within reach, and he placed the jug on the counter and held his hand out towards her. She stepped into him with a whispered 'good morning' – more lips than sound – her arms wrapped around his waist and she angled up to press a lingering kiss at the corner of his mouth.

Rick's belly flipped and his heart stumbled in his chest at the feel of her against him. Clearly she'd woken with no regrets, and he hadn't even realised how afraid of that he'd been until he had her against him.

"Good morning," he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and nuzzled across her temple with a smooth glide of his lips.

She squeezed him gently, before relaxing her hold and leaning back to look at him. She didn't speak, just held his gaze as Rick held his breath. She must have seen in his expression whatever she was looking for, her eyes drifted closed and she kissed him again, her smile pressed into his mouth.

He was loath to break the silence; they seemed to be doing well with only the bare minimum of conversation. He shifted just enough to finish preparing her coffee and passed it to her.

With a deep breath Kate accepted the mug. She wrapped her hands over his as she took it from him, and reluctantly stepped out of his embrace. She waited beside him, sipping at her coffee, while he prepared his own. She tried to find her balance in the midst of the feelings that threatened to overwhelm her, and she wondered how she would manage to maintain the necessary professionalism between them once they stepped out of his loft.

"There are bacon and eggs, and toast," he said after a moment, interrupting her reverie.

"I'll wait for you."

"I'm ready here. There are plates out, just dish out what you want."

She moved reluctantly to the other side of the kitchen and began plating up their breakfasts. She grabbed a piece of bacon from the pan and munched on it while she buttered the toast.

She felt Castle press up behind her, and the ridiculously insistent tingling started all over again. The man was trying to kill her. She glanced over her shoulder at him, intending to berate him for crowding her, but the smug look on his face told her he knew full well what he was doing – damn him.

"So," he started, his mouth close to her ear, "Esposito called."

It wasn't what she'd been expecting him to say, and she turned to lean against the counter to face him properly. "Called here? When?"

"Did you tell the boys we were going out last night?" he asked.

"No." It was hardly a conversation she would have initiated.

"Lanie?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"What do you mean, why not?" She hadn't had enough coffee for one of Castle's tangled conversations.

"Just what I said; why not tell Lanie?"

"No reason at all," Kate replied, drawing out her words and making her answer almost a question. It felt as though there was a degree of self-doubt in his query so she forced herself to answer openly, "I'm not avoiding telling her, we hardly spoke yesterday and I didn't know where this was going."

"You knew where this was going."

"I knew where I wanted it to go. I just didn't know if we'd end up sabotaging it somehow." There was too much distance between them again and Kate stepped into him, one hand on his chest. "I'm not good at this, and I didn't feel like an audience while I found my feet."

"And now that you know where it's going?"

"I'm still not sure I need an audience. Why?"

"You do know you'll always have an audience, right? You know I'll be watching," he smirked at her, and nudged her hip with his.

"I'm accustomed to that particular audience of one."

"Well, the audience might be slightly larger than you'd like. Esposito didn't seem all that surprised that you were here."

"You told him I spent the night?"

"No. Actually, I don't remember what I told him, he threw me a little with his..." Castle's head did a little dance and his eyes bugged out comically.

"With his what? What was that supposed to be?" Kate laughed.

"I couldn't tell if he was laughing at me or trying to intimidate me."

"Probably both. Why did he call? Just to harass you?"

"No, he had news on the suspects from our case."

"What?" She straightened up and stepped away from the warmth of his body, "And you're just getting to that now? Castle!"

"What?" he said, arms raised in defence, "it wasn't important news!"

"Just tell me."

"The DEA have Reynolds in custody. They'll bring him by the 12th when they're done."

"What else?" she asked, impatient.

"That's it, I swear. Call Espo and check if you like."

"Hmm. I don't have a phone."

"Use my phone."

"No, I'll be in there in a half hour anyway," she grumbled. She wasn't sure if she was annoyed at Castle for not telling her about the case, or annoyed at the job for intruding on her morning. She picked up her coffee and grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the dining room, "Just come and have breakfast with me, Castle."

He grabbed one plate with his free hand, not caring that he'd need a second trip, and followed Kate to join his daughter at the table.

###

Kate took her coat off the hook on the back of the guestroom door and looked down to the floor at her overnight back and the shoes she'd worn the previous night. She could throw them in the trunk of the crown vic, or she could leave them here; it really wasn't important either way – yet still she hesitated. She'd be coming back for dinner with Martha so she could always grab her stuff then, but she didn't have clothes for tomorrow so that would mean she'd end up having to go home afterwards... unless she stopped by her apartment before coming over; in which case she should take her bag with her now.

She dropped her head to rest on the back of the door and banged it, quietly, a few times against the hard surface. If there was something not worth making an issue out of it was the location of her shoes. Sighing in defeat she picked everything up, stuffed her shoes inside the bag, and stepped out into the hallway.

Castle was waiting for her at the foot of the stairs. He flicked a glance at the bag she carried but refrained from commenting.

"I'll see you in there shortly," he said, as she joined him by the foyer.

"Can I get another coffee to go, first?" she asked.

"No."

"No?"

"I'm bringing your coffee," he said with no room for argument.

"Are you now?"

"Yes, I am. So hurry up and get going, we have a case to solve together." He was already ushering her towards the door.

"Are you going to be sassing me all day?" Kate stood her ground.

"I don't know. Do you like it?"

"I think maybe I do," she chuckled at him, unable to resist shaking her head.

"Good to know."

Kate looked over to the kitchen where Alexis was busy washing up and called out a goodbye.

"I'll see you tonight?" the girl asked, hopeful, and she leaned over the counter as if worried Kate had changed her mind about dinner.

"You will. Say hello to Martha for me when she gets back. Oh, I don't know what time we'll be finished though..." she looked back and forth between Castle and his daughter. After so many missteps it felt important to get this right.

"I know," Alexis replied, unfazed. "Don't worry; I'll make something that can just wait in the oven."

"You're cooking?"

"Yeah. With Grams back and you here now, I thought it would be nice."

Castle was fighting a proud smile and he turned so that his face was not visible to Alexis and laid his hand on Kate's back to bring her with him.

"Sounds perfect, pumpkin," he said loudly, and then spoke more quietly for only Kate to hear, "Too much?"

"No, not too much, just... humbling; that even after everything I've put you all through she would be so open to my being around." Kate took a deep breath and forced her thoughts away from dirty bombs, and bank robberies, and snipers, and the hurt and heartbreak they'd suffered through to get to where they were. "I don't want to let her down."

"You won't. We've got this." The conviction in his tone left no room for her doubts.

Kate turned back to Alexis even as she stepped towards the door, "If I'm going to be late I'll make sure your Dad calls to let you know."

She caught the girl's pleased smile from the corner of her eye. Turning back to Castle she put her hand on the door knob and prepared herself to leave. She stole a quick kiss, no more than a peck on his cheek, and stepped out of his loft.

His goodbye followed her into the hallway, and she glanced back to see him leaning against the frame; his eyes on her. Behind him she saw the door to his closet and another weight lifted from her chest. Inside, her jacket and scarf from last night hung beside his coat. It was physical proof of their night together in something as simple and commonplace as her clothing left hanging in his closet. It should hardly matter, but for some reason it made leaving easier.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N**- I gotta admit, if i wasn't so darn proud of them for having an adult conversation i would have to kick her arse for leaving without having slept with the man! Seriously! Are you waiting for a written invitation?

Aaaaaaanyways, you lot are all total champions with the reviews! Thank you! I'm at the point in this where i'm tackling things i hadn't expected to and i'm loving the challenge for myself but it's also intimidating, so having that encouragement is helpful.

And i'm loving the titbits of story ideas some people are throwing at me! So much fun! Feel free to chat- i do love conversation.

AND! Who else was there for Stana tweeting the other night? Doodazoids? ROFL! The woman cracks me up. I am quite seriously smitten.


	23. Chapter 22 Back at the office

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 22 – Back at the office...<p>

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><p>She was still feeling a little off her game as she stepped out of the elevator and into the precinct; it seemed impossible that the previous night could have tipped her world on its axis and yet left everything around her unchanged, and she couldn't quite reconcile the habitual hellos and nods from her fellow officers with Castle's good morning kisses.<p>

It was almost a relief when Ryan have a loud and cheery 'hey, boss' and was immediately on his feet with a file in hand and ushering her towards the murderboard.

She removed her coat as she looked over the board for any changes.

"You hear they got Reynolds?" he asked, with no trace of a jibe in his tone.

"Yeah, DEA find him?"

"Yeah, over in Astoria, they had eyes on an exchange and our guy just walked right in. They're working with the Coast Guard to connect him to the smuggling but they've promised not to get into our murder investigation until we've had a chance to talk to him."

"Any leads on Turner?"

"Not yet; but ballistics matched," he said, his face hopeful, "so we know it was his weapon, no fingerprints though." He admitted with a frown. His face told the story of the ups and downs of their investigation. "Don't worry though, we'll get him," he assured her.

"I'm not worried. They weren't criminal masterminds, they'll slip up somewhere."

"We got an ID back on that piece of trash that had you and Castle on the boat," Ryan said.

Kate appreciated his fervour, "Who was he?"

"Hernan Caterall; three years out after doing five at Sing Sing on a long list of assault and possession charges."

"Anything interesting turn up on him?"

"Nah, but there's a copy of his file on your desk."

"Okay, I'll take a look at it," she said, although if she were being honest with herself she'd rather have concentrated on Turner and Reynolds. Caterall may have been a thug but she wasn't happy about his death and regretted not being able to bring him in.

She appreciated the amount of work that had been done in her absence. To have been at the precinct chasing down leads so early Ryan and Esposito were clearly taking it personally, and Kate realised they were still smarting over her and Castle being abducted under their noses. If she hadn't been so preoccupied she might have been turning up before dawn to work the case with them.

She noticed a photo of Reynolds on the board that had clearly been taken during the exchange last night. There were at least three other men in the photo with him, "We get any other photos from the DEA? Can we track down any known associates from this?"

"Espo's going through the list now."

"Where is Espo?"

"Ah, Lanie had something for him."

Beckett turned away and pretended to study the photo. With any luck Javi and Lanie would both be too distracted to pay any attention to her and Castle.

"Okay, you guys have been running point on this, so what do you need me to run down?"

"Ah, well, you want to take over the persons-of-interest?" Ryan suggested. He appeared insecure with the idea of him being the one handing out orders.

"Not if Espo's already working it."

"Then we've got a video of their initial interview with Reynolds if you want to take a look?"

"Sure, cue it up for me?"

"You got it." Ryan seemed happy to be back in his usual place in the chain of command, and he hurried back to his desk to do as she'd asked.

Beckett sat at her desk, turned on her computer, flipped through her messages, and tried to refrain from glancing towards the elevator every few minutes.

She must have been successful; with earbuds in and watching Reynolds' interrogation her first clue that Castle had arrived was her coffee materialising beside her hand. Her belly fluttered before she even turned to look at him.

She paused the playback, removed her earbuds, and braced herself for his smile.

"Hey," he said simply, his focus on her monitor, "Is that Reynolds?"

"Um, yeah," she looked back at the video and then at Castle removing his coat and taking his seat, "The DEA sent over footage of their initial interrogation as well as a list of known associates."

"Anything we can use?"

"Not so far, but it's nice to get a feel for how he'll respond to questioning before we get him in here."

"Can I listen in?"

Beckett wasn't sure how to take his request. He seemed serious, but the lack of innuendo made her suspicious, "Sure. You want one of these?" she offered him one earbud, and then shuffled her chair over so there was room beside her.

She rewound the video to the beginning and waited for Castle to seat himself on the edge of her desk. The cord between the earbuds stretched out and Kate kept one hand against her ear to stop it falling out. Castle adjusted himself a little closer, his eyes on the screen, and mumbled for her to go ahead.

Beckett was glad she'd already listened to the first five minutes of the interrogation. It took her that long to stop anticipating a nudge of his leg or a hand on her shoulder under the guise of making a comment. Instead he watched the interview carefully.

"They've certainly got enough evidence on him," he said ten minutes in, "Have they charged him yet?"

"I haven't heard. I'll put a call in shortly."

"I much prefer the look of him in handcuffs than leaning over us in the back of a van."

"Me too," she agreed, and the bump of her elbow against his thigh was automatic.

They watched the rest of the interrogation in silence. It came to an abrupt end with Reynolds' lawyer demanding time to speak to his client.

Castle's snort of contempt spoke for itself, "He'll roll on his thugs the minute you get him in the room."

"Let's hope so."

"Anyone here have connections to the Moroccans or Kharmaj Imports?" he asked, pointing to the photo from the drug sting.

"Haven't had a chance to run it down yet."

"Want me to?"

"Yeah, that would be good." She reached for the folder containing the printouts and tugged it out from under him, knocking him playfully with the back of her hand to get him off of her desk.

"Beckett, please, hands to yourself; I'm trying to work here." He adopted a look of exasperated nuisance and, with a dramatic huff, picked up the file and returned to his own chair. He made a show of opening the file and studying its contents.

Beckett hoped he was having more luck absorbing the details than she had when she'd first looked through it an hour ago.

###

"Yo! That was Thompson," Espo called out from across the bullpen, and both Castle and Beckett looked over to see him hang up his phone.

"What'd he say?" Beckett asked.

"Something Reynolds mentioned about old associate from his furniture importing days, seems our boy used to be on the up and up. Thompson said that's when Reynolds' dealings with Turner started."

"And they want us to run it down for them?"

"Nah, they're not interested in Turner. Reynolds is dishing out all sorts of dirt on scumbags way up the food chain than Turner."

"So they passed on a name?"

"Better," Esposito made them wait for it, "I got us an address." He waved the piece of paper.

Beckett was instantly on her feet with Castle just moments behind her. She took a step towards Esposito only to have her partner in the way. She halted suddenly, and Castle side-stepped. Assuming he would wait for her to walk past she started again. Only to have Castle, newly accustomed to being allowed in front when it suited the whims and folly of his partner, also assume the right of way.

She came up abruptly against his side, and Castle dropped his hand to wrap around her back. She jumped away from his touch and in a comedy of missteps they both took a single wide step sideways, remaining in each other's path. Finally Beckett stepped backwards and looked at the ground, a frustrated growl of "Castle!" drifted between them.

"Sorry. You go," he said quickly, standing completely still.

She directed a forceful stare at him that he couldn't decipher; flashing eyes and tight-pressed lips that could have meant anything from 'I'll meet you in the stairwell!' to 'get out of my way!' before she marched towards their colleagues.

Castle thought the later was more likely and he counted to three before he followed.

Esposito leaned a little closer to his partner and in a faux-whisper said, "You think that's supposed to be some new kinda dance move?"

"Or could just be Castle falling over his feet," Ryan posited.

"It didn't look like Castle doing the falling," Esposito fired back.

Beckett was quick to break it up, "Yeah, all right fellas, what makes them think it's a lead to Turner?" She held her hand out for the piece of paper.

"They've got Reynolds' phone and his recent calls. Turner's cell was active in the area last night." Instead of handing over the address Esposito stood up and lifted his coat from the back of his chair. "They've released Reynolds and he'll be here in about two hours. Which do you want?"

Beckett flicked a glance to Castle, and saw agreement in his expression. "We'll take Reynolds."

"That's what I thought."

Realising they were on the move Ryan joined his partner in grabbing his coat and keys. "We'll keep you updated," he said, and the two men headed to the elevator.

###

Castle wished he could take more pleasure in seeing the usually calm and collected Kate Beckett flustered by the touch of his hand and his presence at her back. But this was supposed to be her assurance that they could work together with no change in the dynamic between them. They were supposed to be finishing each other's sentences and on the same wavelength as they came up with brilliant theories to solve the case.

Instead, she'd been staring at the same list of calls for fifteen minutes, her bottom lip was caught between her teeth and her leg bouncing up and down was enough to send Castle over the edge.

They'd been going over the files digging for everything they had to make a case against Reynolds and Turner beyond the circumstantial evidence of the weapon and business dealings. They needed to prove opportunity, and they needed to link the pair to the factory where the bodies of Aras, Al-Hassani and Madihi had been found. He was willing to admit it was his fault, he'd gotten too close, leaned too far into her personal space; but he was always doing that, and she was always putting up with it.

It wasn't until her eyes had closed on a puff of breath that he'd even realized his chest was too close to her shoulder, his face too close to her ear. He'd quickly retreated to his chair and gone back to his own set of calls to trace. But in the fifteen minutes since she'd done nothing but jiggle her leg and stare blindly at her desk.

"Lunch!" Castle said suddenly, the idea just occurring to him.

"What?" Beckett asked, brought abruptly from her daydream.

"I'm going to go get us some lunch before Reynolds gets here."

"Okay. Good idea." She cleared her throat and looked around the room.

"Just, relax a bit. Go get some water or something."

"Go get some water?" Beckett glared at him.

"Kate." He lowered his voice so they couldn't be overheard, "You're overthinking things. We've got our suspect on his way in, we've gone through the leads, we've got motive and means, we'll get something to connect them to the factory for the night of the murders. Nothing is different. We've got this."

"Okay. I know," she agreed, and she put down her pen and pushed back from her desk to stretch out her legs. "Grab us some lunch and we'll take a break."

"You're good?"

"We're good."

"Okay then." Castle draped his coat over his arm and gave her one last look before disappearing around the corner.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** Ah, who'd have thunk it! Castle being all professional and keeping it together! That'd be enough to throw anyone off their game let alone someone high on oxytocin and serotonin. Which reminds me… I need chocolate.

I think Beckett needs to phone a friend…


	24. Chapter 23 Cheer Squad

Sorry for no update last night, i wrote/posted another chapter for Missed Opportunities instead (eek!) but i had to write it cos it was in my head and i didn't want any of it leaking into this story. Done now! We can all keep going with this...

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 23 – Cheer squad<p>

* * *

><p>Kate waited until she heard the elevator ding before pouncing on the phone. She dialled from memory and waited only a few seconds for her friend to pick up.<p>

"He's killing me. The man is slowing sending me insane."

"Are we talking about writer-boy?" Lanie answered, not missing a beat.

"Who else would be driving me mad?"

"What's he doing?" she asked, amused.

"Nothing."

"Nothing?"

"He's working. He's chasing down leads and doing the grunt work for god's sake." Kate leaned her elbow on the desk and dropped her face into her hand.

"I'm not following. I thought he started helping with paperwork months ago." Confusion crept into her voice now that the source of Kate's irritation was becoming more vague.

"Yeah, he did."

"So? You've lost me."

"Javi really hasn't said anything?" Kate asked, beginning to suspect that, despite the phone call that had thrown Castle that morning, Esposito really hadn't noticed that they'd been spending more time together.

"Anything about what? Girl, you're killing me. Do I need to come up there?"

"No," she sighed, "But are you up for a visit later?"

There was a long moment of silence before Lanie spoke again, "Oh. My. God. Are you serious?" she almost squealed in excitement.

"About what?"

"You and writer-boy?"

"I didn't say anything."

"Then why are you talking in circles like a crazy person?" Her words came fast, as if she were trying to hurry her friend up.

"We went on a date last night."Kate admitted quietly.

"Girl, get your arse down to the morgue now." She wasn't taking no for an answer, and Kate desperately needed to talk to someone.

She was about to reply when she realised she was listening to silence. Lanie had already ended the call.

Castle would be a good fifteen minutes; plenty of time for a much needed pep-talk. Grumbling at herself she scribbled out a hasty note and took off for the elevator.

###

"Spill. I want details." The M.E. had her by the elbow and was dragging her into her lab with both hands. Kate staggered after her.

"He's making me jittery. I can't concentrate."

"If you had any sense you wouldn't have been able to concentrate long before this. But I don't care about jittery, I want details of the date. I can't believe you didn't tell me." She was practically bouncing with excitement.

"It only happened last night!"

Lanie looked her over eagerly, "So! Did you sleep with him?"

"No."

"No?" Her disbelief was obvious, "What are you doing!"

Kate turned so she could see the door and lowered her voice, "He wants to take it slow."

"Wait a minute; _Castle_ wants to take it slow?"

"Shh! Apparently."

"Girl, you need to just jump that man!" she said fervently.

"I tried! This is what I'm saying; he said no, and now I can't think about anything else."

"You tried?" Lanie grasped her arms gently just above the elbow.

Kate looked at her beseechingly, "He wants us to appreciate the..." she scrunched her face, knowing her friend could fill in the blanks, "Ergh! I'm telling you, Lanie, the man knows how to kiss."

"I have _no_ doubt. But he's taking it slow?" She repeated. From the look on Lanie's face Kate could tell she was having a hard time with the concept. "If you two moved any slower –"

"I know, but there's a lot at stake; a lot to get comfortable with," Kate insisted, and when she said it out loud it seemed to make sense.

"So... you agree with the slow?"

She nodded, almost positive, "I can't remember ever feeling like this, Lanie."

Her friend pulled her in for a hug, "It's about damn time, honey. I was starting to worry you would never figure it out."

"I figured it out ages ago; I just didn't know what to do about it."

Lanie stepped out of the hug but didn't let go of her arms, "I keep telling you what you need to do about it!"

"You realise that is not helping me right now."

"Oh, the driving you insane thing. How slow are we talking?"

"I have no idea."

"And, what, you're just going to wait?"

"I feel like he's taking me on a journey," she said, her voice filled with wonder.

"Oh, honey, listen to you," Lanie loosened her grip around her arms and moved to squeeze her hands, "I think you're gonna make me cry."

"I want this to work so badly, but what if it's always like this?"

"You make it sound like a bad thing? I hope it _is_ always like this for you."

"No, I mean with the distraction and the not being able to think with him next to me."

"It's like you said; you just need time to get comfortable. No, forget that, what you really need to do is get that boy naked, and then come and tell me all about it, and then get back to the thinking clearly around him."

Kate laughed, and it echoed in the sterile room, "From what I hear you've got enough to keep you busy. What was Javi doing down here earlier?"

"Don't you worry about what Javi's doing. That boy is like a dog with a bone. I want to hear about _your _boy. When are you seeing him again?"

"Tonight. I'm having dinner at the loft with Alexis and Martha."

"With Alexis and Martha?" Lanie frowned, "Where's the naked bit going to come into it?"

"I don't know. Maybe I could invite him back to my apartment afterwards? I don't think I can take another night sleeping beside him and not sleeping _with_ him."

"You slept beside him? Just sleeping, in the same bed, not being naked?"

"I know. It's an entirely new experience for me."

"Are you sure he doesn't have... you know... issues?"

Kate's laugh bubbled up, and she wasn't able to stop. She almost managed to get control of herself, and then she thought again of contradiction between the feel of him against her and Lanie's suggestion.

"No issues," she said, still chuckling, "Or maybe he does have issues, just not_ that_ particular issue."

"Hmmm," Lanie raised an eyebrow in disapproval, "There is far too much you're not telling me."

"I know. We'll have to catch up later."

"But not tonight."

"No. Definitely not tonight," Kate sighed and the furrow came back to her brow, "You don't think we're making a mistake?"

"Not even close, baby girl." Lanie looped one arm around her shoulder and pulled her down for a hug, her voice uncharacteristically serious. "That man has been at your side for forever. It's time to let him all the way in."

"Thanks, Lanie," she replied, equally solemn. "So I just have to give us time to get comfortable together."

"If he's taking you on a journey it seems to me you ought to enjoy it."

"Yeah, me too," she agreed. Their journey up until now hadn't always been smooth, but it was starting to feel like it had been worth it.

###

Castle was already at their desk by the time she arrived back at the bullpen. He had his sandwich in one hand and pen in the other; highlighting and checking off his list of phone calls and associates. He was absorbed by the task and Kate allowed herself to study him. The physical attraction was nothing new, but now that she was aware of what he felt like against her; the taste of him, the way his mouth moved over her skin, the calloused pads of his fingers and the softness of his palms, the sensation of his hair scrunched in her hands; now she wanted so much more of it – so much more of him.

Right now she just had to focus on how good they were without all of that; the way they complemented each other and the energy they created when they were working towards a common goal; minds sparking and feeding off one another.

She could do that.

Kate took her seat and opened the paper bag he'd sat in front of her chair.

"How was Lanie?" he asked, his voice neutral.

"She's good."

"How's everything else?"

She smiled at him trying to appear unconcerned. His voice was steady, and anyone else might assume he was talking about the case, but she noticed the white of his knuckles where he gripped his pen too-tight, and the unnatural stillness of his head as he spoke. For a man of motion and movement it was obvious he was reining himself in – for her.

"Everything else is great." She leaned back in her chair and unwrapped her sandwich.

"Yeah?" His grip on the pen loosened slightly.

"Yeah." Kate kept her voice composed to match his, "But she's not a fan of slow either." She took a bite of her lunch to conceal her smile.

He hadn't expected that and his laugh broke free. He had enough experience with girl-talk that he wasn't sure he wanted to know what the two women had discussed if Kate was willing to bring up the pace at which their relationship was travelling, "I thought you didn't want an audience."

"Lanie's not an audience; she's my cheer squad."

"And she's cheering you on?"

"She's been cheering _you _on from the sidelines since our first case together."

She turned to look at him fully and, for the first time since he'd stepped into the precinct that morning, she let him truly see her. She did away with the mask of detached confidence she'd been wearing as protection and hoped that he could read her gratitude and determination, and know that everything she'd felt that morning – the warmth and affection they'd shared – was still there.

Castle smiled, eyes twinkling, "I always did like Lanie."

Kate had a hard time looking away, but they were not alone in the bullpen and they still had an open case. "So, you found anything in those logs yet?" she asked, redirecting them away from just one of the many conversations she didn't want to have at work.

"Two phone calls to a car rental agency; the day of, and the day after, our murders, and a trucking company out of Houston that hasn't come up in the investigation before." He switched back to the investigation without pause.

"Nice, hand over the rental agency details."

He put down his lunch and flipped back through the pages until he found what he was looking for.

Beckett nodded her thanks. She wedged her phone between her ear and her shoulder, pen in one hand, sandwich in the other, and got back to work.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N-** you guys are my cheer squad! Hugs. (cheer away loudly, please!). I will almost-certainly have daily updates over the weekend (maybe even double-chapters) so we can all get this case wrapped up and head home for dinner...

Except, we have a slight problem... and when i say 'we' i really just mean 'me' cos i re-discovered the wonderful world that is fanfic at the beginning of the year, and despite not having written a thing for YEARS i decided to just jump in boots and all, and now it's been two months and i've spent ALL my spare time writing. Which could be a good thing, except i like to eat... and that used to be all good too, cos i'm usually a really active person (i think i'm a tad addicted to the whole post-exercise endorphin thing) so i've always been able to eat whatever i want... but i have not been to the gym or been swimming AT ALL for two months, and for some reason when i write i seem to do it with M&Ms and wine or chips and beer! *snort* and maybe i could have just dealt with all that, except i have these jeans and these denim shorts that, if i do say so myself, make my arse look good! LOL! But now there is an inch! AN INCH! between the button and button-hole because i've done sweet FA except eat and write! And now i have this image of me sitting at home every weekend in a mu-mu, just fangirling and watching re-runs of Castle... and it's not looking pretty, folks.


	25. Chapter 24 Partners

Unbeta'ed. I have no issues with anyone pointing out errors or stuff i do badly (but don't tell me there is too much 'action' in my action/romance story.)

The hugest of 'Thank You's to Marlowe and team for creating Castle, without which my arse would be smaller but i wouldn't get to think about Beckett/Stana every day (fair trade).

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 24 – Partners<p>

* * *

><p>By the time Ryan called to say they were closing in on Turner, Beckett and Castle had a receipt from the rental agency with the booking made via Reynolds' phone, security surveillance of Turner picking up the vehicle, and they were busy hunting through traffic camera images from around the factory for evidence of the rental car in the hours before the triple homicide. CSU was already on their way to the rental lot to inspect the vehicle, although with it having been detailed, leased, and detailed again since being returned by Turner she doubted forensics would find anything useful.<p>

Beckett would have liked to have had the last piece of the puzzle, but when the call came in from the lobby that their suspect was being bought up she assigned a junior detective to keep at it.

"You ready to see if we can get a confession?" Beckett asked, gathering their evidence together.

"Are you kidding? He doesn't stand a chance."

Castle stood to one side and waited for her to get everything in order, gave her the space to assemble the case in her mind and focus on the approach she was going to take with their suspect. He was more aware than ever of not upsetting the balance they'd found over the previous hour.

Her back was straight, and he recognised the tilt of her head and the crisp movements of her fingers; she was feeling confident. He hoped it had as much to do with their success in drawing the net tight as it did with them re-establishing the usual balance in their partnership.

Glancing over to the Captain's office Beckett saw Gates replace a file in her cabinet and head back around her desk to take a seat. With the escalation of their case from a relatively unremarkable murder to the cross-jurisdictional and news-worthy story it had become she knew her captain needed to be kept in the loop.

She fought the slight bristle she still felt at having to report in and strode over to knock sharply on her boss's door.

Gates beckoned her in immediately, and the detective outlined the progress they'd made over the past two hours.

"You're sure you want to take this one yourself, Detective?"

Beckett gave her the courtesy of considering the question, but she wasn't feeling the least bit intimidated by the man, regardless of him having held her and her partner captive. "Yeah, I'm sure."

"Then, let's wrap this one up, Detective. I don't care if the DEA have him on possession and intent; I want to add the names of our victims to his jacket, understood?" Gates said passionately.

"Yes, Sir," Beckett agreed, wholeheartedly.

"Okay then, I think I might want to watch this interview," she said with an almost feral smile of anticipation.

If there was one positive thing she could say about their new captain it was that she was as motivated to find justice for the victims as she expected her team to be, and the detectives under her knew she would make sure they got the support they needed to do their job right. Even if her methods had taken some getting used to Beckett knew she could count on the woman to have their back.

Gates led the way across the hall before stepping into the observation room.

Beckett waited until Castle was at her side before she placed her hand on the door handle to the interrogation room. She paused, almost imperceptibly, before she pushed down on the lever and swung the door open in one smooth move.

Castle waited in the doorway for just a moment, giving her the spotlight, and when he saw that Reynolds' attention was fixed firmly on her he stepped slowly into the room and closed the door.

"It's nice to see you again, Mr Reynolds," she said, all politeness and professional detachment.

Alongside their suspect, his lawyer sat stiffly. Castle didn't know half the charges that were being bought against him but he assumed the lawyer had had a tough morning so far. Neither man replied.

Beckett pulled her chair out noisily and took a seat directly across from Reynolds. She studied him for a moment, focused and unblinking, and Castle almost felt sorry for the man.

"Samir Aras," she began, sliding the crime scene photo of the murdered man across the bench towards him, "Hassan Al-Hassani," she continued, watching his face carefully, "Adam Madihi."

When the final photo lay in front of him she waited until he started to fidget before speaking again. "What happened, Reynolds? They decide they'd had enough of you making all the money when it was their connections, their influence, in Morocco that set you up to begin with?"

He didn't answer, and Beckett didn't give him time to get comfortable with her line of questioning before she pushed on, "Did you have to make an example of them? Re-establish control? I imagine it was a relief knowing there were still men on your side willing to back you and do what needed to be done."

"I don't know anything about that."

"Funny, because the weapon that killed them was registered to your pal, Turner."

Reynolds didn't flinch, but the tightening around his lawyers eyes suggested that was unexpected news.

"Where do you think Turner was on Tuesday night?"

"Maybe you should ask him," he said petulantly.

"I can assure you we will. But I think he'll tell us he was with you. Do you have anyone that can account for your whereabouts between 9:00 and 11:00 p.m. on Tuesday?"

"I was home, in bed, asleep."

"I imagine you were alone, then?" Castle quipped from his place leaning against the back wall, and Beckett had to bite her lip to hide her smile.

Once again Reynolds didn't answer, and the detective recognised his attempts at avoidance. She knew he'd hold out only so long as he thought he could get away with stalling the investigation. He was neither smart enough nor bold enough to have any real power in her room.

"My crime techs are currently looking at the rental car you and Turner checked out that afternoon." Beckett came at him with the suggestion of more evidence.

"My client has nothing further to say on that matter," the lawyer interrupted.

"Really? Does your client realise that we have his phone logs from the night of the murder?"

Reynolds shot a look towards his lawyer that Beckett had seen a hundred times before.

"I would have thought your client would have been keen to start talking to us before we hear what Turner has to say." Beckett decided to push a little harder, and she leaned over the desk and allowed a little intimidation to underpin her words, "You're already looking at serious time, Reynolds, with kidnapping and aggravated assault upon a police officer, I don't care what kind of deal the DEA is willing to cut you; the pre-meditated murder of three family men who were working hard to establish themselves in the United States? That's going to get you life."

"If you had the evidence to bring murder charges you'd be making a formal arrest instead of making threats, Detective," the lawyer said, heatedly, finally earning his money, "You have a weapon belonging to another man, you have a rental vehicle driven by another man. My client is aggrieved over the loss of his associates but he was not involved in their murders."

Beckett could see Reynolds was only just holding himself together, but if she pushed too hard the lawyer was just as likely to call the interview over and march him back to his holding cell with his fingers crossed that all he did was jail time for was assault, smuggling, and distribution, although if he'd cut a deal with the DEA Beckett knew he wouldn't see anywhere near the time necessary to give justice to her victims.

The gentle double-tap on the door broke the stalemate, and Castle moved to open it just enough to see who it was.

Detective Tolliver held out an open manila folder, and Castle stepped just outside the interrogation room to take it from him. Stapled inside were a blurry photograph and a brief series of typed notes. He scanned the note quickly and looked up at the detective.

"That's all you got?" he asked quietly.

"That's the rental," the junior detective pointed to the vehicle visible in the lower corner of the image, "Not likely to get passed by a jury, but Beckett might be able to shake him with it."

Castle looked down at the image. It was taken a block from the factory a full five hours before the M.E's time of death, and showed an indistinct figure holding a dark-skinned man in a choke-hold and preparing to force him into the back of a car. Watching over them was another indistinct figure. Castle was glad he'd had enough first-hand experience with the stance and mannerisms while under gunpoint from the men that he was willing to bet who was who. The victim was wearing a light coloured jacket and Castle tried to recall which of the victims that would have been.

He mumbled his thanks and stepped back into the room. Beckett stood at his approach, and he gave the tiniest of 'no's with his eyes, and inclined his head towards their suspect; silently telling her there was nothing that needed her attention and asking for a turn at the questioning.

She acknowledged his request by taking her seat once more, and waiting for him to start.

"You'd be amazed at the number of video cameras through-out the city, Mr. Reynolds," Castle said conversationally, "It would be almost impossible to keep track of them all. Take the one on the corner of Orchard and Stanton for example. I dare say you didn't even notice that camera whilst you were busy assaulting Mr. Madihi and jamming him in the back of your Taurus. When was that...?" Castle tried to rile their suspect up with a staged glance down at the photo, "Oh, look, just before five o'clock on Tuesday."

Castle could see Beckett dividing her attention between his performance and the suspect's reaction to the new information, and he pushed on, "Maybe that was Turner's job? To keep an eye on things for you? Make sure no one saw what was going on?

Reynolds exchanged another look with his lawyer and Beckett knew that was as far as he'd instructed his client to push it.

"My client is prepared to make a statement."

He hardly let his lawyer finish talking before Reynolds started, his voice rising with anxiety, "Turner shot them. It was like you said, they were making threats," he stumbled, and tried to correct himself, "They were threatening me, and Turner was just acting in self-defence."

"Turner worked for you, Mr. Reynolds, as did the victims." Beckett reminded him.

"They wanted to re-negotiate the terms of their contract. We were discussing the matter when things got out of hand, they became violent, and I regret that Turner acted in haste."

"It didn't look like Mr. Madihi was all that keen to discuss the terms of his contract with you when you were stuffing him into the back of your car," Castle said.

"And after your _negotiations_ failed, you helped him to clean up the scene, and the rental car that you conveniently arranged via phone the day before," Beckett continued.

"My client is willing to accept changes of unlawful restraint of an individual, and knowledge after the fact in exchange for testimony against Rufus Turner."

"No deal. You can sit tight while we wait for the DA's office to get here to take his statement, but your client will be charged with conspiracy to murder and assault charges. You'll have half an hour to figure out how you want to word that statement, Mr. Reynolds," Beckett informed him, pushing up from the chair.

She was slow to retrieve the photographs of their three victims, and she made sure to hold Reynolds' gaze until he looked away.

Castle felt the victory in her tight smile right down to his toes.

###

Captain Gates was waiting for them in the hall as soon as they stepped outside.

"Nice work, the pair of you," she said, although her eyes never left Beckett, "I'll follow up with the D.A's office for you, right now I need you with Ryan and Esposito," she handed a slip of paper to Beckett, "They're waiting for backup before they bring in Turner."

She might not have looked at him, but she'd acknowledged that Beckett didn't work alone, and Castle felt an almost overwhelming need to high five or feed the birds. If it were just him and Beckett he'd risk it, but Gates was still a tough crowd and her recognition of his contribution, today of all days, was too good to spoil. He made do with what he hoped was a professional grin towards his partner and headed to their desk to get their coats.

"Take a cell phone from the pool, Detective," Gates called after them, "and make sure you remain in contact."

"Will do," Beckett said, trying to connect the address Gates had given her with anything from their previous lines of investigation.

She took the coat that Castle passed to her and immediately slipped her arms into the sleeves. She opened her desk drawer and put her gloves and the keys to the Crown Vic in her pocket before reaching for her service weapon. She had it clipped into her holster and was ready to head out with her partner when Gates spoke again, her voice low and intimidating.

"Oh, and Mr. Castle," both writer and detective paused, turning apprehensively, "That was some rather impressive bluffing you did in there. Remind me never to play poker with you."

"Ah, I will, I mean, thank you, Sir," he stumbled around the words, "But you're always welcome at my poker table," he added, still hoping to win her over.

Both women stared at him, and neither seemed amused. Deciding it was time to quite while he was ahead he spun on his heel and continued on his way out.

Beckett had to hurry to catch him. "What bluffing?" she asked under her breath.

Castle stopped at the end of the hall and hit the button for the elevator.

"Castle! What bluffing?" She repeated, grabbing his arm.

"The photo that Tolliver bought into the room of Reynolds shoving Madihi into the rental; totally blurry. It'd never have stood up in court."

"And you went at him with it?"

"Yeah?" he shrugged, "Hey, it worked."

"Hmmm." She tried to look annoyed, but Castle had already put a mental check mark in the 'successful partnership moments' column and escaped into the elevator.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N** - First of all – PALEYFEST! Argh! Seriously. I'm speechless. Or i would be speechless if i didn't have so much to say! ROFL! If you haven't seen it you have to go haunt YouTube now and find it! If i could have worked the words 'salacious' and 'love eyeballs' in here you can bet i would have.

How amazing is Stana? Biggest. Shipper. Ever. And her legs? WTF! I just sit here stunned and smiling.

Lalalalalalala Happy Fangirl Land.

I got nothin' else.

Carry on without me (but leave a review so i know you were here).


	26. Chapter 25 Arrest

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 25 - Arrest<p>

* * *

><p>Castle texted Esposito to let him know they were five minutes out, while Beckett wove expertly through the relatively light mid-afternoon traffic.<p>

Instead of a message in reply, Castle's phone rang.

Esposito started talking as soon as he answered, "Yo, tell Beckett not to waste any time with the sight-seeing. We've got movement here."

He sounded tense.

Castle relayed his comment to Beckett and then asked, "Where are you?"

"One of the furniture restoration places they were hooked up with. Come to the back of the laneway, drive straight down, but make sure you're saddled up ready to go, bro."

Castle could hear yelling in the background and he strained to hear what was being said. "What's going on?" he asked Espo, and turned sideways in his seat to look at his partner. He was glad they'd had the foresight to don their flak vests before getting in the car.

"Turner's here and he's not alone. Either it was left to him to make good on the drop you two busted up, or, with his boss out of the loop, he's trying to wheedle his way in. It's not going his way though. He hasn't got the goods and there's two guys here trying to persuade him to look harder."

"Who's with you and Ryan?"

Beckett caught the urgency in his tone and the tight line around his eyes and she started driving a little more aggressively.

"No one man, you're our backup and so far you're taking your sweet time getting here," he said gruffly, "We were already inside the front of the shop talking to staff when our boys arrived out back for their chat. We've got six employees that don't seem to have any connection to Turner's extra-curriculars and we could be looking at a hostage situation if things get ugly in there."

"Okay, we are..." he leaned to look out the window for landmarks, "We're only a block away."

Beckett swung the vehicle around the corner as the light changed to red, and Castle gripped the seat hard with his free hand.

He gave a rapid-fire recap of Espo's situation to his partner while keeping his phone to his ear in case of an update. They saw the boys' Crown Vic several car lengths ahead and the narrow laneway just beyond it. Castle scanned the shop windows and placards for the business name.

"We're about to turn into the laneway," Castle told Esposito.

"The big double-doors at the end – one's open – straight in twenty yards; you'll have some cover if you go left. All three are armed. We're in position here and Ryan's got the folks settled up front."

Castle was practically speaking over Espo as he repeated the details for Beckett to hear. She had her seat belt off before the car even came to a stop and Castle hurried to follow.

They exited the vehicle together, clicking the doors shut so as not to announce themselves with unnecessary noise. Beckett freed her weapon from its holster and moved in front of Castle. It was several yards from the car to the rear door of the building and she covered the distance in long hurried strides. She took a moment to lean against the wall, listening, before glancing back at Castle and nodding.

"Go," Castle whispered into the phone.

Beckett was already rounding the corner. In front of her she saw the two young men, barely in their twenties, their tattoos proudly displayed in muscle-shirts despite temperatures hovering around sixty.

She announced their presence, and her call of 'NYPD, drop your weapons' reverberated in the long open workshop. Following Esposito's suggestion she stepped to her left, and took cover behind one of several racks of timber stacked end on end.

Almost immediately Espo's yell rang out from the other side of the work bay. She felt, more than saw, Castle's solid presence behind her as she watched the attention of the assailants flick between threats. One of them levelled a back-handed fist to Turner's head and the man stumbled to his knees. The other had his gun up as if prepared to fight, though his indecision was clear by the way his arm swung wildly back and forth across the room.

They needed Turner in custody and Beckett wasn't willing to risk the two newcomers deciding to silence their murder suspect. She stepped forward, weapon raised, and called out again for them to lower their guns.

Esposito's approach matched her own, and the two detectives slowly closed the distance to their suspects with measured steps. At the corner of her vision she noticed Ryan, his back to the wall by the door; keeping an eye on both his colleagues and the workers currently hiding in the front of the shop.

Turner's face blanched white when his gaze fell on Beckett and she had to assume he had no idea she'd survived her abduction; clearly being on the run from dissatisfied drugs and arms smugglers left little time for perusing the papers.

He started to shuffle to his feet, reaching behind himself for the gun visible at the waistband of his jeans. His movement caused the two young men to panic further and they started shouting; frantic yells to back off, followed by assertions that they weren't afraid to shoot.

Beckett sensed their rising panic and she paused, wanting to defuse the tension, "So far you boys are simply in the wrong place at the wrong time. We're here for him," she said, nodding towards Turner, "I suggest you put your weapons on the floor and get on your knees."

Ryan stepped forward, gun raised in a show of superior force, emphasising their lack of options. The slow footfalls behind her told her that her own partner was doing the same, sans weapon.

One of the cornered men growled, the whites of his eyes flashing as he hesitated.

"Don't do anything stupid, man, just lay down the gun," Esposito said calmly.

Beckett took another half step forward and for the first time noticed the open cardboard boxes on the floor at their feet. There was every possibility that those boxes were part payment for the lost shipment and the two men knew they were going in for more than just weapons charges.

She risked a look over her shoulder to Esposito. His expression told her he'd followed her gaze and he was already aware of what was at play.

"This is going down one way or the other. It's up to you how hard you want to make it on yourselves," Esposito spoke again.

The guy in front was clearly wavering and Beckett held her position, waiting him out. The silence stretched out around them and, although it lasted no more than five seconds, it was all it took for him look over his shoulder at his friend.

"This is bullshit, man, it's not worth it," he cursed, and the two men came to their decision together. Their arms dropped and they both lowered themselves to the ground, and surrendered their weapons

Turner's face turned angry; teeth barred and his nose wrinkled in fury.

Esposito moved sideways to circle around the trio; he kept the two kneeling men between himself and their main suspect and kicked their weapons away. Ryan joined him, preparing to cuff them. Beckett kept her weapon and her eyes trained on Turner, and waited until the others were restrained and only one threat remained.

She didn't rush it. Despite the cold fury in his eyes she knew defeat when she saw it; Turner was done and he knew it.

Castle must have recognised it too, he stepped up beside her just Ryan and Esposito moved to flank their suspect from behind; all four acting in concert. That was all she had been waiting for.

"Rufus Turner, you are under arrest for the murder of Samir Aras, Hassan Al-Hassani, and Adam Madihi…"

###

They left Turner downstairs to be booked and processed, and to wait for his lawyer to arrive, and stepped into the elevator together. Castle hit the button to take them up to homicide, and Beckett brushed past him to lean into the corner as the doors closed.

Castle was so busy congratulating himself on staying out of trouble and getting through the majority of their first day after the night before that the light pressure against his wrist didn't immediately register. The glide of smooth fingers sent a tingle straight from his wrist to his belly and he gaped at his partner in surprise.

Beckett was angled back against the wall – all knowing smiles and bedroom eyes – and she tugged him to her. He would have come willingly if he'd had time to process the idea, as it was his astonishment at any kind of physical overture while at work, let alone in the elevator (Beckett fantasy #3), had him unable to think.

Her arms came around his neck in an instant and she was tugging him into her, desperate and hot against him. She kissed him, open mouthed and frenetic, her fingers clawing at his scalp. He wrapped his hands around her hips; fingers curling at the base of her back, threatening to dip lower, while his thumbs dug into the soft skin at the edge of her stomach.

The jolt of the elevator gave them barely a second's warning and she broke the kiss noisily, held him to her until the last possible instant, and as the doors opened she stepped around him and marched with long strides along the corridor.

Castle stood breathless in the elevator. The mechanical jolt of the doors preparing to close again startled him and he managed to shoot his hand out to the hold-door button in time to stop it closing fully. He'd thought he'd had ample practice over the years handling the effect she had on him but this was well and truly testing his self control. He took a deep breath, scruffed his hand over his face, and thought about the mountain of paperwork still to be done, or at least observed, and followed his partner.

She was already seated at her desk and shuffling papers when he finally made it along the hallway. She looked up at him through the curtain of her lashes, and her smile was a dare.

"Not playing fair, detective," he chastised her, before removing his coat and dropping into his seat.

"Who said anything about fair?" she picked up her pen, but instead of getting back to work she bought the pen to her mouth tracing the end along her bottom lip, "Actually, I think I may have left something down in the holding cells, you want to ride the elevator with me and check?"

"Kaaaate," Castle growled at her, "Are you serious? Because I'm trying to be on my best behaviour here."

She was quiet for a moment, and the teasing curve of her mouth morphed into something more serious, "We're a good team, Castle, and that's really not going to change, is it." There was no hint of a question in her voice.

"No, I don't believe it will."

She was forced to wait while two detectives arrived at the next desk over and proceeded to talk amongst themselves. After a minute, realising they weren't going anywhere, she looked over her shoulder at the break room. It appeared to be empty.

"Let's get coffee," she told him, needing to escape the watchful eyes of her colleagues.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i know what you all think she's going into the break room for! Can i just say, sometimes when a woman says "do you want to come in for coffee?" she actually means, "do you want to come in for coffee?" ;o


	27. Chapter 26 Case closed

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 26- Case closed<p>

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><p>Castle followed her into the break room and automatically started the process of making their espressos, while Beckett leaned against the counter next to him, just watching. She followed his hands as he arranged their cups and twisted the portafilter into the machine with well-practiced movements – it was almost hypnotic.<p>

"What's up?" he asked, unable to take the silence any longer.

She forced her gaze from his hands and found his eyes already intent upon her. Whatever she may have been going to say had faded with the surety she felt standing together, "We've been doing this long enough that it's become second-nature," she said simply.

Castle couldn't tell from her voice if she meant it in a positive way or not, and when she didn't elaborate he turned and busied himself at the coffee machine, giving her a reprieve from his stare, hoping it would encourage her to talk. "What's become second nature?"

"Finding the story, building theory, tracking down leads, working a suspect... all of it."

"We work, Beckett, it's like I said before; with my ideas and your muscle – we fit," he nudged her foot with his own.

The water gurgled and the hiss of steam sounded as it forced its way through the Colombian Maragogype. The heady aroma surrounded her and, as Castle tilted his head sideways just enough to catch her eye, she felt her belly tighten with anticipation.

"We do."

He caught a glimpse of pleasure in the tightening of her eyes, and he marvelled at the stories she told with only the flux and play of skin and eyes; she was feeling good, and Castle decided he was safe in assuming that she was feeling good about _them_.

He reached for the jug of milk and spun the dial for the steamer, his shoulder came up against her as he changed positions at the machine and she didn't step away, "Only now, when my ruggedly handsome good looks get the better of you, you can make out with me in the elevator," he said quietly, his voice low, almost lost in the hiss of the foaming milk.

"You liked that?"

"You've got no idea."

"Oh, I think I do."

The look he turned on her was almost enough to make her forget they were in the break room in plain view of anyone who happened to heed the siren call of coffee, and she pushed her weight into her feet to stop herself from moving.

She couldn't stop herself completely from touching him, and she reached out with the arm nearest to him and hooked her finger through the loop of his belt. She let the weight of her arm hang against his hips but made no overt move to tug him closer, "Why are we taking it slow?" she asked, and the unevenness of her voice surprised her.

"Right now, the only reason we're taking anything slowly is because the boys have walked past the door twice since we've been in here, and Karpowski seems attached to the copier."

He would have missed her quiet sigh if he hadn't just turned off the steamer, but he glanced up in time to see her teeth glide over her lip and the double line that showed between her eyes fade away before she spoke, "Look, Turner is a slam dunk, the boys are working everything else up with the DEA; can we just get this done and get out of here?"

Castle didn't answer immediately; he handed over her coffee, put his to one side, banged out the puck, and racked up two more cups on the tray. "Why are you rushing it?"

"I've got things I want to be doing in places other than the elevator," she said through clenched teeth. "Why do you keep stepping away?" she asked, almost angry.

"I'm not stepping away from you, Kate. Maybe you need to think about what you're afraid is going to happen if we take it slow?"

Beckett's body stiffened, her hand falling away from his side, and he realised his mistake. This wasn't a conversation to be had at work. "Hey, we'll get this done," he risked reaching out to her and rested his hand over her stomach. It was the softest of touches but the undemanding intimacy of it was enough to preventing her from pushing away from the bench and escaping. "We'll be out of here, and someplace else, before you know it; but there's nothing wrong with where we are now, Kate."

"I know that!" she sighed, "I like where we are now, I'm not saying I don't, but the slow feels like distance, and I can't do distance right now, Castle, I need to close the gap," she finished softly.

"Okay."

"_Okay_, okay? Or just okay?"

"_Okay_!" he leaned towards her, his thumb caressing where it still rested on her stomach, "Less distance."

"Castle!"

"Okay," he promised, and her quiet snort of laughter was a relief, "I'd start with a hug if Ryan weren't on a direct path to us right now," he said, looking over her shoulder through the window.

Even knowing they were about to be interrupted she still couldn't help the sense of disappointment she felt at the loss of Castle's touch just moments before Ryan's voice intruded, "Hey, sorry boss, Turner will be up in five, you want us to take him?"

"Nah, we'll take him."

Ryan seemed to hover in the doorway, and when Castle pointed to the coffees he was making for the rest of the team his face lit up, "Thanks, man," he said, and stepped into the room. "'Cause Espo and I would be happy to handle the interview if you wanted a break," Ryan continued as if they were still having the conversation.

Castle passed him the two fresh cups and pretended to ignore the exchange.

Beckett stared at him blankly, "A break?"

"Yeah, you know..."

"Do I look like I need a break?" she asked, directing her frustration at her colleague.

"No?" Ryan looked to Castle for some help, and Castle studied the ring of foam around his coffee cup.

"Fine." Beckett groused.

"What?"

"I said fine; take him."

"Really? Okay, great! I'll tell Espo." He raised his cups in a thank you gesture to Castle and hurried back to the bullpen.

"So..." Castle said, drawing out the word in amusement.

"They've spent more hours working the case than us anyway," she said, as if needing to justify her decision.

Castle didn't reply.

"Shut up, and let's go write up the arrest for the D.A."

"Okay," he tried not to grin, and led the way back to their desk.

###

Beckett and Castle watched Turner being escorted, handcuffed, back along the corridor on his way to the holding cell.

"Two arrests, two confessions. Can we mark today down as a success, Detective?" Castle asked, but the smile they shared had little to do with their case being closed.

"Hmmm," she pretended to consider the question, "I may have had a few doubts, mostly on my part," she held up her hand to stall his argument but he interrupted anyway.

"Mostly?"

"But we didn't crash and burn, and I have high hopes for the rest of the evening."

"High hopes? Care to share with the class?"

They were lost in each other, smiling unreservedly, when Ryan plonked himself down on the corner of Beckett's desk with an exaggerated sigh.

"It's about time! I bet you're relieved all that's over?" He looked between Castle and Beckett as he unscrewed the top off a bottle of water and took a mouthful.

"What's all over?" Beckett asked.

"Ya know; the not knowing, waiting for closure," his head nodded back and forth to emphasise his point.

Beckett looked at Castle, startled, and he gave a tiny shrug of his shoulders and shook his head. He hadn't spoken to Ryan since their encounter in the break room.

When neither one replied he smiled at Beckett, "Now you can go back to your apartment and just fall into bed."

"What?" Beckett yelped.

Esposito stepped in to join the group and glared across the desk at his partner. Seeing his expression, Ryan almost choked on his mouthful of water, and his brow furrowed in confusion, "I meant with both Turner and Reynolds behind bars and that other guy scooped out of the Atlantic, you know they're not out there; you don't have to crash at Castle's now... What?"

"Dude, let it go," Espo said with a meaningful head-tilt.

"I'm just sayin' –"

"Yeah, we heard. Anyway," Espo shot an apology-laden glance at Castle before turning to face his boss, "We're gonna head out. You should do the same."

"We will. I mean_ I_ will. I just have the breakdown for the DEA to finish up."

"All right," he nodded, and then turned and held his hand out to Castle, closed fingers pointing upwards, "Nice close, man." The pair exchanged smiles as they fed the birds. "Come on, bro." He said to Ryan, angling his head towards their own desk.

"We're leaving? What about drinks and pizza?" Ryan protested, following his partner but looking back beseechingly at Castle, "Old Haunt?"

"Can't tonight," Castle replied.

"Beckett?"

"Sorry, no can do."

"You guys are kidnapped, beaten up, and stashed on a boat that explodes! And you end up clinging to a life buoy in the Atlantic in winter, but the do-ers get away, and we finally nail them – and no one wants to celebrate?" Ryan asked, bewildered.

His three colleagues remained silent, staring at him, for several seconds before Beckett answered, "Who says we're not going to celebrate?"

###

It was after six when Beckett started in on the last report from the DEA. She opened the folder and skimmed through its contents, before glancing over at Castle. He'd grown bored of his iPhone a half hour earlier but had remained at their desk, just sitting.

"It's getting late, why don't you head on home and I'll come over once I finish this up?"

"And face Mother's stories alone? No thanks. I'll wait for you."

"I'm going to have to stop by my apartment before getting to the loft anyway, unless..."

"Unless?"

"Did you want to come back to my place after dinner?"

"Detective Beckett!" he leaned his elbow onto the corner of her desk and rested his chin on his palm. "Are you trying to get me alone?" he teased.

She really was, but she didn't want his jokes, "Castle!" she grumbled.

"Would you be more comfortable there?"

"It's not that. I'm comfortable with your family. I just... my things are there," she offered, lamely. Although now that he'd mentioned it she realised that was probably a large part of her hesitation; she wanted the home-ground advantage that being in her own apartment would offer, and she wanted to avoid the distractions and obstacles she knew they would find at his loft. She tried to puzzle through that new discovery even as he was talking.

"I'm happy to come back to your place. But you know you can just bring things with you to the loft, right?"

The thought of her hairbrush and her mascara decorating his vanity top created a flutter in her belly and she couldn't decide if it were nervousness or longing. She needed some mental space to be able to sort through the roller-coaster of emotions she was experiencing or at least some privacy away from the scrutiny of their colleagues so they could talk freely.

"Kate, we're not on a schedule," Castle interrupted her deliberations.

Beckett looked around the near empty bullpen self-consciously before replying, "It feels _big_ bringing clothes to the loft," she admitted, continuing with that particular, less difficult, issue so that she didn't have to discuss the fact that she knew she was subconsciously seeking to subvert Castle's steadily paced journey.

"You realise that if I come to your place I'll be bringing clothes too."

It scared her how much she wanted his jacket in her hall closet. But as dinner, and the evening beyond dinner, approached she found herself worrying once again. She wasn't sure what his acceptance of her request for less distance between them meant, but she was putting too much importance on this one day and this one imagined night together – and she knew it. Worst of all she was second guessing her acceptance of Castle's plan to let their relationship progress slowly.

She felt she needed the confirmation of his skin against hers and his acceptance of everything she was offering before she could trust in where they were going together. There was so much she wanted to say to him but until she had all of him she couldn't face that conversation. She had no doubt that she'd mess up any attempt at telling him how she felt; she wanted to show him and have him feel how much she loved him before she tried to tackle the rest of her fears.

Castle might have been sure that they had time to enjoy the journey and to break down the rest of her wall together, but she felt like she needed to be there already, she needed to have his forgiveness and to prove to him that her decision to leave him waiting until she was ready wasn't as wrong as she feared it may have been the day they sat on the swings together and she saw how much she'd hurt him.

She wanted to kiss away that hurt, soothe the damage and the heartache with the slide of skin and the physical proof of how good they were together.

He sat patiently alongside her, willing to wait her out, and with her eyes on her desk she canted her head towards him, her hand half-hiding her face from the room around them. She almost whispered her reply, "I want your toothbrush in my bathroom, and I want your jacket hanging in my closet, and I think it scares me just how much I want it."

Castle dropped his voice to match hers, "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her. He knew he should be relieved; she was pushing forward and wanting more. Despite her obvious uncertainty she wasn't retreating behind half-conversations or loaded glances; she was willing to tell him what she wanted.

But he needed time to work through all of her fears. They'd had so little time to adjust and he couldn't risk undermining her belief in him before he'd had a chance to prove himself to her. He needed this to work. He needed for her to know that he'd been right when it came to the best way to move forward with their relationship, so he could prove he hadn't been wrong in trying to keep her safe.

Her lack of caution scared him. She'd admitted last night that she'd been worried they'd just leap recklessly, and of all her fears that was the one that he shared; that when she bared her soul she would bare it completely and he'd be left with secrets still hidden and no way to reveal the truth without destroying everything they'd worked so hard to achieve together.

"I know you're not. Give me ten minutes to wrap this up and we can talk about the rest someplace else," she said eventually, her expression worryingly clouded.

Castle didn't push. He took out his phone and texted his daughter to let her know they wouldn't be long.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N**- Where's the kissing! Damn you, Castle! ... Ergh! Hdsfkhsd;ghsk. Just kidding, it's all good! I'm fine here, really, nobody panic! It's just that it obviously takes me a crap load longer to write this than it does to read it, and i feel like i have been waiting for them to kiss for forever, but they're not doing it! Castle with all his fears about the whole darn smartboard-of-doom and him freakin' out that Beckett's gonna do a number and lose it and ARGH! But i have to chill and remind myself it's only the day after their first date!

I just want them to be happy! *sob*. We have dinner in the very very next chapter. And not _just _dinner, in fact that's gonna be the chapter title 'More than just dinner' so you can all either jump up and down excited about the 'more' part if you think it's gonna be kissing, or you can freak out a little if you think all hell's about to break loose!

Oh, and i just have to say, THE best thing about writing fanfic is i get to write stuff purely for my own amusement, and that scene with Espo feeding the birds and congratulating Castle on a 'nice close', yeah, he wasn't talking about the case! *go Espo, go Espo*

Leave a review, dammit! otherwise i don't know what you think (yes, I mean you!).


	28. Chapter 27 More than just dinner

This chapter probably still needs some tweaking, sorry! But i decided to just post it anyway cos i have to go to bed! I'm usually able to shuffle my work hours to suit myself but this week has been busy. I'm likely going to miss tomorrow's update too but then i have Friday/Saturday off so will line up the snacks and eat myself into oblivion while i write. I promise!

Oh, and you lot are phenomenal with the reviews and alerts. I was struggling a bit the last couple of days (mostly cos the distractions here and my lack of sleep coincided with me hitting a couple of scenes that i want to get right) but i gotta tell ya the reviews give me a burst of motivation every time. Many many hugs.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>chapter 27 – More than just dinner<p>

* * *

><p>As soon as Castle opened the door to the loft they were hit with the aroma of dinner, and the swirl of gold and purple as Martha descended upon them.<p>

She greeted them like long-long friends, rushing across the room with arms spread wide. "Ah, you're home!"

"Welcome back, Mother."

"Hi, Martha, how was the retreat?"

"Simply wonderful." She embraced her son and dropped a kiss on his cheek, and then opened her arms to Kate. "It's lovely to see you again, kiddo." She wrapped her in a warm hug. "You and I will talk later," she whispered conspiratorially into her ear as she rocked her back and forth.

Kate mumbled her agreement, and she found herself looking forward to whatever conversation Martha wanted to have. The older woman was hardly a replacement for her own mother, but the affection she felt for Rick's entire family was genuine and, in a small way, it helped fill the void.

Martha held her at arm's length and gave her a slight nod of approval that made Kate blush. Rick stepped up to take her coat, and then Martha led her by the hand across to the kitchen where Alexis was laying plates on the counter.

"Hi Dad, Kate, how was work?" Alexis asked, beaming.

Kate felt like she was in some twilight-zone alternate reality; coming home to a flurry of activity with family and dinner and hugs and hospitality. She felt almost unsteady on her feet, and when she realised her grasp had tightened on Martha's hand she forced herself to relax. Her eyes sought Castle's across the kitchen, and his nod seemed to be all the permission her body needed to settle into the unfamiliar everyday routine.

"Work was good. We closed the case, so..."

"The streets are a little safer?" Alexis suggested.

"Yeah, we can hope."

"There's a bottle of wine on the bench, Richard, if you don't mind?" Martha said, directing Kate to take a seat at the island bench. "Alexis tells me that this morning you mentioned you were interested in hearing about the workshop?" The tilt of her head and the sparkle in her eyes told Kate her reference to the fact that she was at the loft that morning was not accidental.

"I did, I would love to hear about it," she agreed, sincerely.

Rick groaned his opinion from across the room, but he poured three glasses of wine at his mother's request and Kate assumed he would be joining them. Instead, he stood behind her with his ribs pressed into her shoulder blade only long enough to place a glass each in front of the two women, and to cause her to lose track of the conversation, before he joined Alexis in setting the table.

Martha regaled them all with stories from her week away. Kate wasn't sure if it were the laughter or the wine, but as they all moved from the kitchen, and she reached out to Castle to take his hand for the half a dozen steps between the bench and the dining table, she realised the anxiety she'd felt at the state of limbo that still seemed to exist between them was no longer there.

Rick pulled out her chair, and then his own, without letting go and they sat together ignoring the amused smiles of Martha and Alexis. Once they settled he moved their joined hands to his lap and entangled both his hands around her one.

"Well," Martha got their attention with a rap of her folk on her wine glass, "All I can say is; it must have been one hell of a first date, and –" She raised her glass in the air, "I think we should all drink to that."

###

Bowls of pasta and salad were passed around informally, wine glasses were kept filled, conversation never lulled, and Kate's belly hurt from laughing.

The meal had started with Kate's lower leg wrapped around Rick's, but as Martha's stories ventured further into his early years, and the level of amusement increased, he'd worn one too many accidental heels to his shin. He'd long since decided he was far happier watching Kate reel with laughter, and instead made do with the press of her thigh and the occasional glance of her hand across his knee.

"We should invite your Dad over for dinner one night," Alexis suggested eagerly to Kate, the joy in her expression made it clear she thought the idea was wonderful.

It was so far from anything Kate had considered thus far that she almost choked on her mouthful of pasta. She coughed, and swallowed hastily, before reaching for her wine. As deliciously mellow as Martha's Bor Forras was it still managed to catch in her throat. She could see Alexis' humour turn to confusion, and in between coughs she tried to apologise, her hand alternating between patting her own throat and reaching out to the young woman.

Castle came to her rescue passing over a glass of water and patting her on the back. She avoided looking at him; he'd know her gut reaction had been more of panic than surprise and she hated that she seemed to need to keep her life so compartmentalised.

Rick's family had so unreservedly accepted her; clearly it had seemed natural to Alexis that Kate also extend the same invitation for them to know her father – her family.

"I'm sorry, Alexis, we should." She coughed again and took another sip of water. "My Dad would love that." As soon as she felt safe to relinquish the glass of water she reached over to lay her hand over the back of Rick's. "He asks about Castle all the time. He'd love to catch up with everyone." She risked a quick glance at her partner.

"We wouldn't have to if it made you uncomfortable," Alexis said, uncertainly. "And, I mean, we wouldn't invite him without asking you first."

"It wouldn't make me uncomfortable, unless you start asking him for stories about me as a teenager." She smiled, hoping to reassure everyone, "I'm sorry if I made you think it was a bad idea."

"There's plenty of time for that, anyway. No one's rushing," Rick said.

Martha laughed briefly and mumbled something about rushing.

Kate was quick to differ. "You're not, not at all. Sometimes I just get caught up in my own bubble and I forget to look at what others might..." she gave up trying to explain it away, and instead pressed her leg into Castle's and turned to look him in the eye.

He flipped the palm of his hand over to join hers, and squeezed slightly. "Well, I think we should start making a list of all the embarrassing stories Mother has shared with you tonight, and when Jim does join us – you can expect payback."

"Stories of a young Katherine Beckett?" Martha grinned deviously, "I think that's a fine idea."

"Then you should definitely tell her about the first time I didn't get a date home before curfew."

"Before curfew...?" Martha questioned, clearly thinking hard. "That would have Cindy O'Mara? I thought she got into a disagreement with her best friend and you spent the whole evening consoling her with tissues while she cried into her burger at McDonalds?"

"I did, but I'm willing to bet Kate's story isn't quite so disappointingly dull."

###

Kate was secretly amused by how quickly the two women found excuses to head upstairs following dinner, but she was more than willing to take advantage of it. As soon as the dishwasher was stacked she wrapped her arms around Rick's waist and leaned against the counter, pulling him with her.

"It feels like much longer than just this morning that we were standing here together. I never realised how little time we actually spend alone before."

"What should we be doing now that we are alone?" he teased, his mouth hovering over hers.

"Kissing," she grinned. "Lots of kissing." Her eyes were already closing as she tilted her head back and slipped her hands from his waist to run the length of his back, pulling him down to her.

They moved slowly together; open mouths gently brushing, the caress of cheeks, and feather-light stroke of tongues. It was a re-affirmation of the connection they'd established the night before.

Rick cupped the back of her head with both his hands; fingers splayed, and with pinkies touching, his thumbs gliding over the silky skin in front of her ears. His palms completely cradled her; held her safe in the sweep of his hands.

Kate relaxed into the curve of his body and focused on nothing but the feel of him next to her, the satin softness of his lips, and the intoxicating swirl of his tongue.

With a slow trail of kisses Rick moved across her cheek. With his hands buried in her hair he tilted her neck; amazed at the power she'd granted him. He'd never seen her so vulnerable; eyes closed, throat bared, his hands gripped tight around her skull. He dropped his lips to her throat, felt the pounding of her blood under her skin, and laved his tongue across her.

She moaned, and he felt the vibration along her throat. She relaxed her grip on his shoulders only long enough to wind one hand into his hair, fingers scrunching, her tight grip pulling hard at his scalp. She hooked her calf around the back of his knee and there was no longer space between them.

They held still against each other, breathing hard, both knowing it would take only the rock of hips to escalate beyond their unhurried affirmation of intimacy and into passion.

Rick ran his hands down the sides of her neck, over shoulders, and then down the length of her arms as he straightened slightly, not stepping away, simply granting some space between them.

Kate turned her palms up to meet his hands, linking their fingers, and she pushed away from the counter and into his chest, her mouth finding first the sensitive skin where throat meets shoulder, and then nipping her way up to his ear.

"Couch?" she asked, breath warm and tingling against his kiss-dampened skin.

He backed away on unsteady legs, and used his grip on both her hands to drag her with him. He bought her arms back to loop around his own hips and turned their bodies as one, shuffling her backwards. They kissed and stumbled their way across the room, laughing at their unsteady progress, before tumbling together onto the couch.

They stayed where they fell, laying on their sides, legs tangling, hands and mouths exploring, the slow burn of arousal coursing through them both until eventually the kisses lightened and it was the intensity of their gazes alone that caused skin to prickle and breath to come fast.

Rick felt she was skirting along the edge of control and he could almost see the battle she was waging in the tightness around her eyes. "You can tell me, you know," he whispered.

"Tell you what?"

"Whatever it is that you're fighting at the moment."

"It doesn't feel like the time for it."

"Whatever it is, it's been haunting you all day, Kate." He smoothed his hand over her cheek, and studied her closely. "You're afraid?" he didn't know if he'd suddenly made sense of the shadow in her eyes or if she'd decided to let down another of her shields.

He followed the bob of her throat as she swallowed, and his heart clenched. Had he missed something?

Her mouth opened, but the words didn't come. She broke from his gaze and laid her head flat on the couch to look up at the ceiling.

Rick reached for her hand and held it tightly against his chest. "Clearly it _is_ the time for it. Even if you think I don't want to hear it, you need to say it. I'm not going anywhere."

"I know, and I think that makes it harder somehow."

"Makes what harder?"

"Knowing that I've hurt you, and yet you stay; you wait for me."

"Hurt me? I'm not following." Rick felt his skin flush hot and a sick roiling started in his stomach at the tension in her body. "Kate?"

She adjusted herself on the couch, pressing upright and lifting up off him slightly without losing the comforting closeness of thighs and arms. Rick moved so her folded legs lay against him and he cradled her hands in his lap.

She looked down at their joined hands; her thumb rubbed hard against his knuckles, worrying over his fingers in a rough massage. "I was in a bad place after I was shot," she began, and Rick started to breathe a little more easily. He'd come to terms with the old hurts, and he was more than ready to hear her talk about the time they'd spent apart if that's what she needed to do. "There was a lot to work through and I was drowning in it all."

"You made it, though, you got through it."

"I did, or at least, I am." She frowned, knowing she still had a way to go. "I've been seeing a therapist." It came out forcefully, as if she expected him to make an issue of it.

"And is that helping you to work through the memories?" he asked, calmly.

"He's helping me to be able to _talk _about the memories."

Rick immediately appreciated the difference, and it was almost a relief to have her confirm what he'd long suspected, "And you're ready to talk about it with me now?" he encouraged her, softly.

"I am."

"I'm glad."

She stared at him, wide-eyed and waiting, with her hand clutched tightly in his. He could feel the warmth building between their palms, and see the still too-rapid beat of her pulse at her neck. When she didn't continue he turned their hands over in his lap and ran his thumb soothingly over the back of her wrist.

"Did you want to talk about it now?"

"I am."

"This is you talking?" Rick had to fight to keep his smile from showing. He didn't want her to think he was the least bit amused by her struggles but he couldn't help but think it was so typically 'Beckett' of her to try to have this conversation without words.

She took a steadying breath, "I'm not sure what else to say. I hadn't imagined getting this far without you being angry or without me falling apart."

"Why would I be angry?" he asked, puzzled.

"I should have been honest with you before now."

"Honest about what you remembered? Or honest about how you felt?"

"Both?"

"You told me how you felt that day on the swings."

She looked down at their joined hands and smiled shyly. "You knew what I was trying to say," she said, relieved.

"Of course I knew, and I told you I'd wait."

A silent tear ran down her cheek and she laughed unsteadily, "Dr Burke is probably going to find this all secretly amusing."

"Your therapist?" Rick brushed his thumb over her cheek, and then repeated the slow caress across the ridge of her eyebrow.

Kate leaned into his hand. "Mmm, I've been tying myself in knots over this for months."

"You should have just told me."

"When have we ever just told each other anything, Castle?" She crawled over his legs and draped herself over his chest, face pressed into the soft curve of his neck. She knew there was more to be said, but for now it felt like her confession was enough.

Rick felt her go limp against him. Her lips lay against his skin and her breath came as a series of shuddered sighs as she let go of the anxiety she'd lived with for so long. He wanted that peace for himself, wanted to feel unburdened, but he couldn't bear to intrude upon her moment of calm quietude. She deserved a moment free from the tangled mess of their past. He wrapped his arms around her, and pressed a kiss to her temple, but he couldn't stop his eyes tracking across the room to the door of his study and the spectre of the smartboard that lay beyond it.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** Oh, Castle, my heart's breaking for you! Hang in there, dude! i have no idea what's going to happen but i promise you i won't let you fail! But in the mean time, you're kissing Beckett! So it's not all bad in your world.


	29. Chapter 28 Together

**A/N-**This is the complete T chapter. If you want the adult version go here. .net/s/7929096/1/ (Erosion Director's Cut)

It was my intention to challenge myself to write a totally T rated fic (love scenes and all) but having finished this scene it just didn't feel complete and i put off posting it, and ummed and ahhed and eventually, with 90min before i intended to just post it anyway, i asked for a second opinion (god bless Twitter!)

The end result is two versions. One to satisfy my personal challenge (and i hope it still feels intimate and if anyone at all bothers to read the T version i'd love to hear if you think it feels complete as it stands) and the other is the extended director's cut! dedicated to Madsthenerdygirl and Trish and everyone else that pretty much clamoured for the sexy-times ;)

The T version is age-appropriate-ish for older teenagers IMO (but i really have no clue).  
>The M version is for an adult audience but is (i believe) character and relationship-appropriate so if you're just avoiding M cos you don't want a smut-fest then i think it's still okay. ? maybe ?<p>

Huge thanks to Deb whose input, in my opinion, made this even more delicious. Seriously. Good times! *snort* If i was you i'd be signing up for author alerts from Deb838 cos if she ever posts anything here it's gonna be good!

Apologies for this huge author's note ramble, but there will be no note from me at the end of this! LOL! ;)

..

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 28- Together<p>

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><p>Kate could feel the weight of his thoughts even as she lay against him, face buried in the warmth of his neck, surrounded by the scent of him. His hands ran slow soothing lines along the length of her back from her neck to the curve of her hip. Even as his sure strokes calmed her anxiety they created a knot of tension in her belly. She ran her hand along his side and up over his chest, and timed the press of her lips to his ear with the tangle of her fingers at the top button of his shirt. His breath caught and the hand on her back stilled.<p>

Kate undid first one button, and then another, enough to slip her hand inside his shirt and sucked the lobe of his ear into her mouth, running her teeth over him until only her lips were left to soothe the sensitive skin.

He groaned at the sensation, chest muscles flexing under her palm, and she rolled into him, her leg falling between his as she pressed herself against his thigh.

"Come home with me," she growled into his ear.

"Kate, you're not making this easy," he said, his voice rough. His hands gripped her hips and he fought the instinct to rock their pelvises together. "I can't think when we're like this."

"Then stop thinking."

"It's been twenty-four hours since we first kissed, maybe forty if you count your accidental half-asleep kiss, that's not what I call giving ourselves a chance to catch up."

"Not exactly our _first _kiss," she reminded him, knowing full well he hadn't forgotten. "Besides, it's been too long since I first _wanted_ to kiss you, and I'm all caught up."

"Kate." He ran the pad of his thumb over her brow in a soft caress, silently questioning her conviction.

"No, unless _you're _not ready, Castle? Because this is what I need from you. This is what I need to give to you. I want you, Castle – all of you – please don't make me have to keep asking."

The last of his resolve crumbled with the weight of emotion in her voice. He knew he had a choice; to either assuage his own guilt and tell her now about everything he'd hidden from her whilst she was at her most vulnerable, and risk their future, or he could wait and hope that the bonds they were now forging together would be enough to get them through should he continue to keep the truth from her for just a little while longer.

He closed his eyes and pressed a kiss to her lips. "Let me get my toothbrush and my jacket," he whispered.

###

She wished they could have taken a cab instead of her having to drive the squad car. Once Castle lifted the brakes he didn't stop moving, and his hand on her leg made concentrating impossible. It had started at her knee, deliciously soft figure eights that looped from her patella to the inside of her leg, before he inched higher up her thigh and it took all of her self control to stop herself from increasing the gap between her thighs to let him in.

Instead she bit down on her lip and let the tickle and tingle of his caress flood her. The drive to her apartment seemed to take forever.

He crowded into her back as they stood in the elevator; one hand around her stomach, the other clutching his overnight bag. Kate wanted to lift her arms to loop backwards around his neck, to press her backside into him and have him kiss her neck. But she doubted her own ability to stop it at that. She knew she would end up grinding into him, demanding his hand at her breast. So she reached behind herself to steady his hips against her, delighting in the sensation of him brushing faintly against her and the proof of his arousal.

Kate pressed a hand to his chest when they got to her door, holding him an arm's length away, as she dug in her bag for her keys. She had them inside in a moment, and she dropped her bag and keys to the floor. Rick placed his bag down, and they stood together, not touching – eyes never straying – as they removed their shoes and jackets. Rick held out his hand for her coat, and then he hung them together in her hall closet. With his bag in hand once more, he waited while Kate removed her badge and gun and stored them in the kitchen drawer at the bottom of the stairs. Neither spoke as they climbed the steps to her bedroom together, hand in hand.

The curtains were open onto the cityscape and the room was lit with the red and golden lights of the surrounding skyscrapers. It painted the bed and the bookshelves and the huge wall canvas in a tableau of light and shadow and, as much as Rick would have liked to look around – his first glimpse of Kate's private domain – his eyes barely left the woman in front of him.

Kate stood facing him, her back to the bed, as she undid the buttons of her shirt. Her eyes were dark and wide as she watched him watch her. Rick stood enthralled as each button came undone revealing pale skin and dark lace. He wanted to watch her face, see the play of emotions – desire and delight; her own hunger for him and the enjoyment he knew she got from seeing him so lost in her – but the movement of her fingers, the twist and splay of each inch of her shirt, drew him in like nothing he'd ever experienced.

A small part of his brain wondered at the way she affected him – it was hardly the first time a woman had undressed for him – but this was Kate, and she was standing in front of him, smiling the most wonderful of secret smiles, hair tousled, eyes dark; he couldn't ever remember being more aroused by anyone in his life.

He wanted to step into her, kiss her, run his hands along the skin that she was revealing to him, but that would mean sacrificing the previously only imagined vision of her slowly undressing for him. So he stood anchored, chest heaving, lips parted, as she undid the final button, dropped her arms, and let her shirt fall to pool at her ankles.

It wasn't until she reached behind her back to undo her bra that he stepped forward, a tiny growl of 'no', and he raised his hand to skim along the smooth skin of her shoulder, taking the strap of her bra with him to fall over the curve of her arm.

He kissed her then, hot and hard, tongues delving deep as they finally gave in to their desire. He explored the expanse of skin at her back, cupped his hands to glide up the length of her side, stopping at the line of her bra before stroking her through the thin fabric. Kate arched into him, desperate to have his hands on her; the catch of breath and answering moan could have belonged to either of them.

Rick reached behind her with one hand and undid the clasp of her bra, his other hand never leaving the curve of her breast. He wanted his own shirt gone, wanted skin on skin, but couldn't contemplate abandoning the satin smooth curves to complete the task.

"Off," Kate complained, tugging at his clothes. "I need this off." Her hands worked at the buttons of his shirt briefly, before she changed her mind and, instead, undid the buckle of his belt, tugging hard at the leather to pull it fully from the loops of his pants, before popping the button of his jeans and pulling the zipper wide.

Kate had the buttons and zip of her own pants undone in an instant and, as she shimmied them down the long length of her legs, Rick did the same, pulling his socks off as he went.

Standing in only her underwear Kate grabbed the sides of Rick's open shirt and tugged him back towards the bed. She placed one knee behind herself, and then fell backwards pulling him with her. He landed on top of her and she laughed at his grunt, brought her legs around him and rolled him over until she was bent over him, straddling his hips, her hair falling around his face.

Rick brought his hands up to tangle in her hair, scraping it back over her ears to hold it away from her face before he pulled her down to him to capture her lips in another kiss.

Kate bent her arms to keep her hands splayed across him, enjoying the solid feel of his shoulders and the flex of muscle across his chest. When she came to the barrier of his clothing she broke away from his kiss, took the ends of his shirt and lifted it up his back, forcing him to lift off the bed and pulled it from his arms. Kate resisted his attempt to pull her back down, instead she sat back on him and trailed her fingertips over the line of his clavicle, and then down the centre of his chest.

His hands settled at her hips, thumbs stroking the crease of her thigh, fingers curled to hint at touching the curve of her bottom. She watched his face as she explored him, teased goosebumps from his skin and left a trail of fire in her wake.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He lifted his eyes to meet hers, and the sincerity and gratitude in her expression made him shake his head, "You can not seriously be thanking me for this?"

Her lips curved in the hint of a smile, and she shrugged. "I told you I'd follow where you led, but I didn't. I made this about what I wanted."

Rick loosened his hold of her hips and brushed both hands along the tops of her thighs to the curve of her bended knee, and then stroked back up again. "You told me what you needed, and what_ I_ need is for you to keep doing that."

"Even if it's not what you want?" she asked.

"You think I don't want this as badly as you?" He chuckled at the too-serious expression she wore. "I will never get enough of this – of you – I want everything you'll give me." His hands left her thighs to glide up over her stomach.

Kate lifted onto her knees and leaned over him again. "And I want to give you everything," she exhaled against the skin of his cheek, her sigh sounding in his ear, before she turned to glide her lips sideways across his mouth, the mere suggestion of a kiss.

His voice was just as breathless, but he was smiling when he replied, "We're not even completely naked and already we're perfect in bed."

"Mmmm, we'll see." She laughed deep in her throat. "Why don't you stop talking and put your money where your mouth is."

"Forget the money, I'd rather use my mouth," he said, and his hands gripped the curve of her ribs, lifting her along his body as he bent his head; his mouth went immediately to her breast.

Her spine arched as her head tipped back and she growled out her agreement. "I'd much rather you use your mouth like that too," she panted. With one hand holding his head to her chest Kate rolled onto her side, the hook of her leg drawing his body to follow. "I've always liked your mouth."

With a slow swipe of his tongue Rick left her breast and brought his head up beside hers, a pleased grin shaping his lips, "Really? You like my mouth?"

"I'd like it a whole lot more at the moment if it were doing something other than talking," Kate pretended to protest.

"Ah, that's not true, Detective," he teased her. "I _know_ you like the sound of my voice."

Kate wrapped her arm around his waist in a hug and bent her leg to slide her foot to the back of his knee, nudging his leg between hers. "Then let me hear you; talk to me, Castle."

Rick pressed his elbow into the mattress and lifted his torso off the bed just enough to tilt over her, his cheek skimming hers, the slight scratch of stubble over the silk of her skin. "Do you want to hear how incredibly badly I want you right now?"

"Mmmm," she encouraged him with a moan.

"How the feel of you against me, my hands on your skin, the way you move; how much it makes me ache. Is that what you want me to tell you?"

Kate's fingers twitched against his back and a shiver ran through her. She turned her head, her eyes closed, and let her open mouth rest against his lips; feeling his words.

"Or that your kisses, the feel of your mouth, the glide of your tongue; it makes me want to taste you so badly. Even now, the way we are –" He pressed his hand over the curve of her breast. "You're exquisite, but I can think of nothing but having my tongue against you."

"Oh, god, Castle." Kate arched into him, his words painting a picture that set her on fire.

Her hand moved to glide over the satin of his boxer shorts and she rolled her hips. She swallowed the sound of his moan, effectively silencing him as she captured his mouth and refused to let go.

Together they shed the last of the barriers between them and, as skin met skin, they lost themselves in exploration and discovery; both finding something they'd always hoped was there but never been brave enough to reach for.

###

Rick woke as the first of the sun's early morning light lit the room. Kate lay pressed against him, gloriously naked, and the dawn bathed her skin in shades of grey; a portrait in black and white. The sheets lay tangled around their hips and knees where they'd been abandoned when finally they'd slept.

Lying with her felt surreal, as if any moment he would wake from a dream and find himself alone. Despite promises to wait, and the light that had ever so gradually crept into her eyes over past months, he'd never rid himself of the doubts; never managed to escape the fear that maybe, maybe, his love for her wasn't enough.

His eyes travelled the length of her, drawn to the mesh of their limbs, the contour of them wrapped together. He refused to even consider the possibility that this was all they would ever have, and he made a silent vow that he would fight not only to defend her, but to defend what they could be together.

Overheated skin had cooled overnight and Rick's hand was drawn to the pebbled expanse of skin beneath him. He trailed his palm lightly over her shoulder, and then down her arm, skimming over the peak of her breast, past the faint pink scar almost invisible in the pale glow of morning. Her body responded to his touch, and by the time he reached the flat plane of her stomach she was rolling into him.

Kate's arms came around his waist and she kissed at the skin of his upper chest; open mouthed, teeth nibbling.

He felt, more than heard, the murmur of her morning greeting against his skin.

Rick resisted the urge to close his eyes and instead he trailed his fingertips from the curve of her hip along the length of her spine and watched as a trail of goosebumps rose along her skin. She shivered when he reached her neck and let out a hum of approval.

"Cold?" he asked.

"Yes, but you're warm," she replied, turning her head to rest her cheek upon his chest and laying her leg over him. "And I want to see you." She slid her hand across the solid expanse of his chest and over the swell of his bicep. "I don't get to see this very often."

"Ah, I've been reduced to eye-candy," he teased, as his own hands helped to raise her body temperature.

"Shut up, Castle, I'm trying to concentrate," Kate huffed, and she mapped the curvature of his chest muscles and the taper from shoulder to waist with her hands and her eyes.

"You're concentrating?" he asked, amused.

"Hmmm, when we're at work later today and you're in a button down shirt with your jacket tight across your chest I'm going to look at you and remember this." She stroked and massaged her way across his deltoids and over the smooth curve of his shoulder. "And you're going to know _exactly _what I'm thinking about."

"Then we better make sure to give you plenty to think about."

He rolled her onto her back, bringing his weight down over her, and she wrapped her legs around him.

"This new 'waking up together' arrangement just gets better and better," she replied.

And then they were both too busy to talk.

###

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- Thud! Leave a review.


	30. Chapter 29 Murderboard

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 29 - Murderboard<p>

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><p>Rick found his way around her kitchen; starting the coffee machine and searching through her collection of cereal boxes. He would have liked to have made breakfast, but they were already running late.<p>

The background hum of the coffee maker, and the splash and fall of water from the shower upstairs, were a soothing counterpoint to the jumble of thoughts in his mind. As he waited for the coffee he looked over his shoulder at the inconspicuous shutters that concealed the story of Johanna Beckett's murder.

He added creamer and sugar to his coffee and, as he stirred, he debated the wisdom of crossing the room and opening the shutters. Had Kate added anything in the months since they'd last stood there together? It played on his mind and he couldn't separate the morning they'd shared with the haunting knowledge that they needed to talk.

The water ran steady above him and he knew she'd have to dress for work – he had time. He dropped his spoon in the sink and crossed the living room with both hands wrapped around the uncomfortably hot mug of coffee.

The shutters gave a tiny squeak of protest when he opened them, and a piece of paper fell to the floor at his feet. He stooped to pick it up, recognised the handwritten note, and pressed it back to its place on the timber panelling. His fingers trailed slowly down the grooves of the shutter and across to the cool surface of the glass; an ever-so-faint film of dust coated the inside of the frame. It made him pause – this proof of her submission.

But the photographs drew him; the familiar notes and arrows and underlined questions. He couldn't help but compare the dead-ends on Beckett's board with the thin web of new leads and tenuously connected conspiracies on his own smartboard.

After a while he no longer saw the series of photographs in front of him; the image of Johanna slumped against the wall in an alley was replaced with the memory of Kate lying beneath him, and the confusion in her eyes as the life drained from her.

He felt again his fear at losing her and his hand trembled as he moved to close the shutter; to lock it away once more. The voice behind him brought him from his trance and made him startle.

"What are you doing?" The warmth and affection that had flavoured her words so far that morning was gone.

He spun to look at her, and his stomach plummeted at the stark hurt in her gaze. "Nothing. I was just..."

"Well, don't," she said tightly, and stepped forward to close the shutters. They banged noisily against the frame.

"I didn't mean..."

"Castle, please, not today. Can we just not get into that today?" Kate's head bowed and her eyes closed, she exhaled slowly through pursed lips before continuing, "I need to keep that closed."

Rick sat his coffee mug down on the ledge beside him and stepped closer. He wanted to hold her, but her body language radiated her need for space and he was still feeling his way around their changing dynamic. "You've let it go."

"I haven't let it go." She frowned. "I can't, not really. It's part of who I am, Rick, even when I don't want to think about it – it's there. It's in the shower with me, and every time I look in the mirror, and every time I look into your eyes and see the knowledge of this, _this_, between us!" She gestured angrily around her, only half indicating the murderboard. "But I haven't opened that in months," she admitted weakly.

Steeling himself for her rejection, Rick reached for her arm. He curled his fingers loosely around the back of her elbow, careful to keep his touch light, and took a tiny half-step towards her. Her stance softened, and her palm came to rest on his chest. He was instantly aware of the pounding of his heart.

She lifted her face to look at him, and he studied her in return. She cocked her head at him, a question in her eyes, and the truth of his deception was on the tip of his tongue despite her plea to let it be. He could do today, but what if today turned into tomorrow, and the next day, and his lie of omission created a chasm between them that nothing would bridge?

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"We said it wouldn't be forever, that we'd figure it out, and we will, Kate. I promise you that we will. It won't haunt us forever."

"You can't know that," she said softly.

"I know you said 'not today', but..." Still, he hesitated. With her eyes locked on his he saw an openness and a level of trust in him that he'd never seen from her when talking about her past. As much as he didn't want to destroy that, he knew it was time to be completely honest with her regardless of the ramifications.

He covered her hand with his own, held it tight against his chest, and stepped backwards to lean against the wall.

She followed him willingly, brought her other hand up to feel the beat of his heart. She stepped her feet to either side of his, straddling him, and leaned into his body with her elbows pressing into his stomach. It was intimate and familiar; a parody of two lovers standing oblivious to the rest of the world.

Rick wished he could kiss her and tell her he loved her. Instead, he asked, "Do you trust me?"

"Castle?" she leaned back slightly, and behind her surprise he saw the first flicker of fear in her eyes. "I trust you with my life – you know I do. What's going on?"

"I need you to trust me with more than that. I need you to trust me with your past. I need you to trust me with this."

"Do you know something more about her murder?" Her eyes flicked back and forth across his face; drawing his secrets from him.

He shook his head, "No, but I asked you to step away from the case, and I know what that decision cost you. I need you to know that I'm not going to leave it unresolved forever."

"I know why you asked me to step away from it. I don't want it to cost me my life either. It's not just about me anymore." Beneath the weight of his hand she smoothed her thumb over his chest in a warm caress.

"The people behind it all won't be able to hide forever. One day it will be safe to chase it; the pieces will come together and we'll be here to do it together," he said, his voice full of conviction.

She offered a resigned smile, "I know we will, and I've been dealing with that. I've been working through my feelings about walking away, for now, and not letting it feel like I've abandoned her."

"Is this something you've been able to talk about with your therapist?" Rick asked, hoping she had someone else she could turn to if she couldn't accept his help.

"We've spoken about how it's affected me and how it's prevented me from..." Lines formed between her eyes and she broke from his gaze to look around the room, "– from being more, held me back from this, from you."

"And it helps? To talk about it?"

"Yeah, it took me a while to figure that out," she scoffed at her own inability to talk. "But you got us here anyway, Castle." She met his eyes again before relaxing against him and bringing her cheek to rest against his jaw. "You stood by me."

Rick released one hand from its position between their chests and brought it around her head to hold her to him. He lowered his chin so that her hair tickled the side of his mouth when he spoke. "I will always stand by you – always, Kate – and I will do everything in my power to keep you safe." He relaxed his hold on her head and, with a gentle pressure behind her ear, encouraged her to look at him. "You were being buried by it; losing yourself. But we're partners and when it gets too much, for whatever reason, I need to be the one that helps shoulder the burden. This conspiracy, and the people behind it, they'll make a mistake. There's been –"

The ring of her cell phone interrupted them, and Rick couldn't stop the grimace that twisted his features. Kate remained where she was, and he withstood her scrutiny for a long moment; neither moved to answer the phone.

Rick eventually spoke, forcing down his frustration. "Can we come back to this?" he asked, his voice rough.

"Everything always comes back to this," Kate replied, sadly. She pushed away from him, one hand lingering on his chest, before slipping slowly from his grip.

Rick leaned his head back against the wall and watched her retreat to the kitchen, and her still-ringing cell phone.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- i can almost hear Castle banging his head against the wall from here. And you know what... i didn't even **want **the damn phone to ring! I tried twice to write that away and it didn't happen (i just stared at the computer blankly with nothing NOTHING! Curse you!)

But it's all good. They have to get it all together cos i want to write more of the sexytimes! *snort* cos I want to bring Deb back to help with the beta (seriously, if you want to turn something erotic into something absolutely hilarious you should ask someone to read it and give you an honest opinion! I near pee'd myself last night from laughing.)

Anyway, orf wit ta lot of ye! (that's my Irish accent in homage to St Paddy's Day).

Longer update for you tomorrow.


	31. Chapter 30 Chitchat

Massive thanks to everyone that has taken the time to send a review or a message and have a chat! If you've gotten this far, and read all 30 chapters!, maybe take thirty seconds to say hi.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 30 - Chitchat<p>

* * *

><p>With his eyes closed, and head leaning back against the wall, Rick listened in to her end of the conversation; a body drop on the one morning a murder wouldn't brighten his day. He tried to tell himself that it was best the call came when it did; two minutes later would have seen him having revealed the phone calls and the clandestine meetings and the arrangement Montgomery had made to keep her safe – the arrangement<em> he<em> had made to keep her safe – and given neither of them a chance to work through his deception and what it might mean for them now.

They needed time together; time free from interruptions, time for him to explain, and time for her to listen and, hopefully, to understand. He intended to find that time, but clearly it wasn't going to be now.

She told whoever was on the other end of the line that she was a half hour away and he wondered at the location of the crime scene seeing as they were both dressed and, as far as he knew, almost ready to walk out the door. Sucking in a lungful of air he collected his now-cold coffee and joined her at the kitchen counter as she ended the call.

He could see the tension in her shoulders, and he was determined not to leave the house with the current blanket of unease around them. He kept his tone light when he spoke, "What nefarious deed awaits us this morning?" He twitched his eyebrow comically, hoping for a laugh.

Kate smiled at him and at the way he had of coaxing her from the darkness that engulfed her whenever she let herself dwell on her mother's murder and her own shooting.

She wished he'd left the board alone; she'd wanted to walk down the stairs and start a new ritual of hurried breakfasts after far too long in bed. Too much of who they were together was wrapped in her mother's case. But last night and this morning should have been theirs alone.

She could hardly pretend that it wasn't something they needed to talk about, but she wanted to live in the moment for a little bit longer. They'd have to step out the door and be Detective Beckett and tag-along writer slash partner soon enough.

Kate called to mind the anxiety-relieving breathing techniques her therapist had taught her, and immediately discarded them in preference for the man in front of her. She slid her hand up under the collar of his shirt and then down over his chest. She loved the feel of him; the breadth of his chest and the solid strength of muscle.

Rick stepped towards her, standing against her side, and let his hand settle at the base of her spine.

With him beside her she forced her thoughts away from her own personal murderboard and focused on their day, "Nothing good; robbery gone bad," she replied distractedly, eyeing the boxes of cereal and empty bowls on the bench. "You haven't eaten?"

"No, I was waiting for you."

"Okay. We've got ten minutes. I'll do cereal, but I want my morning coffee."

"We're eating first?" he asked, surprised.

"I don't know about you, but I worked up an appetite this morning," she said, unable to keep a straight face.

Rick didn't even try to hide his smile, "Coffee coming right up," he agreed, leaving her side to start again with the coffee.

Kate filled both their bowls with cereal and milk, added spoons, and put the boxes and milk away while she waited. Rick had his back to her, stirring in the sugar, and she stepped up behind him and leaned into his body. Looping her arms around his waist she linked her fingers across his stomach. Rick turned slightly, just enough to lift his arm over her shoulders, and pulled her against his side.

"I know you want to talk about it all and we will, we'll come back to it, but I want to feel like this for just a little while longer," she explained.

"How do you feel?"

"Free – I feel free – and this," she pressed her hand over his heart, "this thing between us, it's not a fragile thing, Castle; we've tested it. It's not going to fall apart from lack of words or time or trust."

Rick leaned down to kiss her, hoping that she were right.

Kate did everything she could to reassure him that she was done running and done hiding. He made her feel like anything was possible, and her lips had turned to a smile even before she ended the kiss.

Rick felt his heart stumble; skipping a beat at the look in her eyes. He squashed her to him briefly before letting go to finish with their coffees.

"So, diamond heist gone bad? Or, _please_, let it be a costume shop?" he asked, face hopeful, "Tell me Captain Jack Sparrow and Naughty Nurse didn't get away?" He actually seemed to believe it might have been possible.

"No pirates this time, Castle." Kate hated to disappoint him.

He handed over her coffee with a kiss. "Oh, another priceless piece of artwork, perhaps?"

Kate wacked him with the back of her hand, frowning at his roguish grin, "Plasma screen TV."

"Plasma screen TV? Really?" he repeated, disappointed, "Hmmm, I suppose not every story is worthy of a New York Times review."

They collected their bowls and crossed to the dining table, and Kate decided it wasn't such a bad start for a new morning routine after all.

###

Kate eased the vehicle in behind the traffic cones and came to a stop behind the patrol car before turning off the engine. Through the front windshield she could see the small crowd gathered on the corner, kept back by a uniformed officer she didn't recognise. Ryan, notebook in hand, stood in front of the electronics store taking statements from two middle-aged men.

She should have already been out of the car and on her way to meet the victim but something made her want to stay where she was for just a moment longer.

"Hey. Kate," he waited until she looked at him, and then let his pinky finger stroke over the edge of her thigh, concealed by the angle of her body, "I'll see you after work," he said affectionately, his mouth twitching with a smile and the corners of his eyes crinkling.

She grinned at the humour sparkling in his eyes but had to turn away, needing to gather herself together so she could leave the bubble they'd created together over nearly four years and just one night, and face another crime scene and another victim.

Tugging on the lapels of her jacket she turned to look out the window of the crown vic to the laneway that ran behind the housing complex and turned her mind to the job. She put her hand on the door handle and thought of Raul Coronado and the events that led to his murder.

Exiting the vehicle she closed the door and, after nodding to the officer standing in front of the yellow crime scene tape, she leaned against the car and waited for her partner.

Castle came around the bonnet of the vehicle and handed her the coffee he'd made her stop to pick up on the way over, but then refused to give her until they arrived at the scene.

"Beckett." He nodded.

She smiled at his remarkably straight-faced expression, and thought Martha would be proud. "Hey, Castle," she looked down at her feet, and then took a mouthful of coffee to prevent herself from laughing out loud. The warmth he created in her was difficult to walk away from.

They ducked under the crime-scene tape together and made a bee-line for Lanie and the body of their victim. Kate took another mouthful of coffee to give her mouth something to do and remove the last vestiges of her smile before greeting her friend.

She allowed herself to take in the scene and gather her first impressions of the victim; the young man, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt, lay face-down at the edge of the access road. He'd been carrying an oversized carton, his TV, when he'd been shot and his arms were spread-eagled across it, his fingers wrapped around his prize even in death. His head flopped over the top of the box, forehead touching the asphalt. From her angle behind the body she could see no obvious evidence of cause of death.

"Hey, Lanie. What you got for us?"

The medical examiner looked up at their approach, "I wouldn't have thought this one was up your alley, Castle," Lanie said, "A rob and run?"

"Let it not be said that I am only ever here for the action," he shot back.

Lanie stood up from the body and looked back and forth between Castle and Beckett, "Hmm, look at you two." Lanie turned a disappointed-yet-amused glare in Kate's direction.

"What?" Kate asked, forcing a frown and running a mental checklist for any hint of what might have drawn her friend's attention.

"Is that a hickey?" Lanie asked, eyes wide.

Kate panicked, "What?" she choked out, glaring at Castle, her hand moving to her throat before she thought the action through.

Castle turned away from Lanie and whispered between clenched teeth, "She's playing you!"

"What?" Beckett rolled her eyes, and turned her glare to Lanie.

"Hmmm, interesting." Lanie folded her arms over her chest and continued to scrutinize her friend.

"Could we perhaps turn our attention to the victim?" Kate mumbled, her voice strained.

Castle stood frozen, not sure if he should come to Beckett's defence as Lanie continued, "Is that a new lipstick? Or am I just seeing a glow?"

"Who's glowing?" Esposito asked coming up behind the trio. "Hey, Beckett, did you doing something different with your hair?"

"Guys!" She growled out, feeling the heat of a blush on her cheeks and hating it. "The victim; Raul Coronado. Do we have any witnesses?"

"Witnesses? Yeah, could be," Esposito said, and then stood nodding. When Beckett waved her hand for him to get on with it, an annoyed 'and?' look on her face, he continued, "According to Mr. Samson, the owner of the newsstand across the street, Coronado was here bright and early waiting for Mr. Lee, the electronics guy, to open shop. They had a few words on the street and then went inside. Half hour later he saw Coronado running out carrying that big ass box," he nodded towards the huge box printed with a partially visible image of a plasma TV that lay under the victim, "He heard a gunshot, came running, and found him dead."

"No sign of the shooter?"

"Nah. But there's access to the back of the shop from that courtyard," he nodded along the alley, "and Samson said Mr. Lee was acting real twitchy when he went inside to check on him."

"Is he being held for questioning?"

"Already on it, he's in the squad car out front, we have uniforms looking for the murder weapon, and a search warrant should be through any minute so we can have a look around inside."

"Okay, great. Thanks, Espo." Beckett turned back to the body.

"I'm not seeing an exit wound," Castle said.

"That's because there isn't one," Lanie replied, and she bent over the body supporting the head and turning his shoulder sideways to display the bullet wound just above his eye.

Both Castle and Beckett crouched down for a better view.

"Large calibre, minimal stippling."

Heads moving in sync, Beckett and Castle looked past the victim and along the alleyway to the narrow verge of grass at the first break in the brickwork. There was one dumpster bin, and the steel-mesh enclosed distribution box of a large scale air conditioning unit on one side of the asphalt road that led to the rear of the stores, at the courtyard the lane narrowed to a concrete walking path with sparse hedges alongside the chainlink fence that continued into the housing complex.

"So he'd have to have been shot from, what, ten to thirty feet away?" Beckett asked.

"Something like that," Lanie agreed. "I'll know more once I see what kind of bullet we're talking about."

Castle stood up, tried to ignore his creaking knees, and walked towards the pathway. Beckett watched him, waiting to see what story was unfolding for him. When he got to the entrance to the courtyard he turned to look back at his colleagues.

"This is more than thirty feet away, and he would have had better cover if he'd stayed back behind the corner of wall. Why would he approach him? Why step out into full view of the sidewalk if he intended to shot him?"

Beckett stepped away from the victim and studied the angles involved, "Any indication the victim was armed?"

"None," Esposito replied.

"So the perp knew he was unarmed, he stepped into his path to confront him."

"Asked politely to have his TV back?" Castle asked, one eyebrow rose and he pointed to the rear of the store. "Except the back door to the shop is padlocked."

"I think it's safe to assume that the store owner has a key."

"But padlocked from the _outside_," he insisted.

"Castle, not every murder is a conspiracy."

"But it's so much more interesting to pretend that it could be."

Beckett faced Esposito and asked, "Have uniforms picked up any shell casing?"

"Nothing yet."

"Okay, we'll have a look around, and then I want to have a chat to Mr. Lee."

"Ryan's talking the nearby store-owners now. I'll see what else he's got for us."

"Okay, thanks, Espo," Beckett nodded, appreciating the work her fellow detectives did putting together the background information for the team. She walked along the alleyway towards Castle; her heels clicking on the uneven and heavily patched surface. While the boys were drawing the outline of the case she could always rely on him to colour it in; even if he did still insist on going outside the lines.

"That padlock doesn't look like a recent addition," Castle said before she even reached his side.

"Perhaps he unlocks it each morning? He came through the back, shot our guy, locked up, and then went back in through the front."

"That doesn't fit with what the newsstand guy had to say."

"That's why we're going to talk to Mr. Lee, see what _he_ has to say."

"Why would he steal a TV right out from under the owner's nose? He didn't even try to hide it! Hey," his face lit up as a new thought occurred to him. "Do we even know there actually _is_ a TV inside that box? What if it's something else?"

"Like what?" Beckett asked, although she'd long since discarded the notion that a criminal's actions had to make sense.

"I don't know. Drugs? Hey, it's an _electronics _store, who knows what they could be building in there." Castle took in his partner's look of disbelief, "What? That guy made the F-BOMB for DARPA in his garage for under fifty bucks... We should get some of them, how cool would that be!" Castle pondered on the possibilities of unlimited spying potential for a moment.

"You think they're building surveillance devices for the CIA?" Beckett asked.

Castle turned to stare at the back of the store, "Right under our noses."

"Yeah, we should get uniforms onto that," Beckett raised her hand to call over one of the patrolman standing at the entrance to alley.

"Really? You're going to check for ..."

Beckett ignored him and waited for the officer to approach, "Have we checked along the footpath? Are there any cameras monitoring pedestrian traffic on the other end?" she asked him.

"I'll find out," he replied, and he was talking into the radio at his shoulder as he walked away.

Castle turned a disappointed frown in her direction.

"C'mon, Castle. Let's go see what our CIA mastermind has to say about his stolen TV."

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** okay, you all wanted to see them back at work... so here we are... but i write this and get to the end of time i selfishly steal so i can write and i realise NOTHING HAS HAPPENED! I know we're working our way through a new relationship, and they have a job to do, but i want them to stay home and hash it all out!

I was going to leave off posting this until I had a more substantial update to post... but this gives me some accountability and makes me hurry up.

I swear i'm writing one-shots from now on! This is killing me! I've got some flirting and some Lanie time coming up cos i need it. I need flirting. I need girl-time. I need Caskett to find a quiet corner and have a chat. I need to get back to the loft. I need more time to write so this can happen quicker. Oh! A bomb-scare at the precinct and Gates sends them all home early! Forget the dead guy he'll still be dead tomorrow. You need to talk! *sob*


	32. Chapter 31 Suspects and Seduction

Both my kids are sick and apparently a runny nose makes it impossible to think for yourself or find something to do, so i've actually had to parent them the last few days rather than write (i know! Unbelievable!)

I've always gone off the first link for the floorplan of Beckett's apartment, and in my mind i decided that pokey little unnamed room was too small for a bedroom, so i stuck it upstairs past all those cool books (cos that sort of appealed to me- having her bedroom up high past a trail of bedtime reading) and although they've not actually shown it or mentioned it one way or another on the show, kateisfine sent me this super cool link (thanks!) with a fan's drawing of the apartment. The bedroom/bathroom/garden is apparently just her imagination but i have to admit i like it... but! if Kate has a rooftop garden what are we fic writers doing! My gosh! The potential for late night starlit bottles of wine just leave me reeling! I'm tempted to stop writing Erosion until i get out a oneshot of them on the roof. It has to be done!

s857. photobucket. com/albums/ab138/dustjackets/Locations/Beckett%20new%20apartment/?start=all

www. tumblr. com/tagged/my_love_affair_with_kate_beckett's_apartment

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 31 – Suspects and Seduction<p>

* * *

><p>Castle let out an excited squeak as they stepped inside Lee's Radiorama &amp; Repair, and Beckett turned straight away to see what had his attention.<p>

He held up a white box and waved it excitedly, "They've the new iPad! What kind of idiot steals a TV when he could have walked out with this?" Castle mused, turning the box over and studying it.

"Someone that needed a TV?"

Beckett bypassed the aisles of DVD players, radios, iPods, phones, routers, cameras, netbooks, and GPS units and headed straight to the rear of the premises where she could see Ryan and the team of CSU techs working the scene.

The back office had seen better days. She picked her way across the scattered papers, upturned file boxes, and smashed computer screens towards Ryan, glancing briefly at the techs that were busy dusting the back door for prints and photographing the clear evidence of a struggle.

"What happened in here?" Beckett asked her fellow detective.

"Seems the store owner and our vic had a disagreement."

"Over?"

"Not sure, no one 's talking yet. But we have video surveillance of the front of the store so hopefully we'll get something from that. Mr. Lee claims he didn't leave the store after the victim run out, and none of the witnesses remember seeing anyone else suspicious in the area."

"You get a records check on either of them yet?"

"Yeah," Ryan pulled out his phone and passed it to Beckett showing the criminal history he'd accessed earlier. "Nothing on Lee, but Coronado was still on probation for a B&E and resisting arrest back in August. No next of kin listed. His licence has his address as Morningside Heights so he was a little out of his way, and," Ryan indicated an evidence box on the counter, "The boys found that stashed under the till."

Beckett leaned over to look; inside was a handgun, already tagged and sealed in a baggie.

"Recently fired?"

"Nah, it's a Firestorm .22; calibre is too small to be good for the murder weapon."

"Yo," Esposito said, joining them in the back room, "Seems the vic was becoming a bit of a regular around here of late. Locals don't seem to have been too fond of him."

"What'd you find out?"

"They're not saying much, I think he may have been shaking Lee down for protection money."

"Really? It's not exactly Chinatown around here," Beckett replied.

"No, but Lee might have had connections?"

Deciding she'd gotten about as much of a feel for the murder as she was going to get looking at the dishevelled office she left the team to continue working and headed back into the store to look for her partner.

It was time to see what their suspect had to say.

She found him perusing the aisles, intent upon one of the displays, and she couldn't help but be amused by his preoccupation with gadgets; until she realised what he was looking at – a tiny concealable spycam with a wireless USB receiver.

Beckett snuck up behind him and leaned over his shoulder, "Don't get any ideas," she whispered in his ear.

His head swung around, bumping her nose, and he stepped back guiltily, "Huh? No, I was just... I wasn't," he stammered.

"Uh huh," she smirked at him, flicking her eyes down at the box and back to his face. She turned her body towards the exit but held his gaze for a moment longer; her grin far too broad to be innocent.

Castle stared, eyes wide, as he tried to decipher the meaning behind her look. The wink she gave him before spinning on her heel and stepping towards the front door left his mind whirling.

It took him a moment to respond, "What? Really?" He jogged after her before remembering the box still clutched in his hand. He dumped it on the front counter and chased her out the door, "Is that...? I mean, do you...?"

He slid to a stop outside, glancing around at the persistent crowd of onlookers and police personnel.

"Do I what, Castle?" Beckett asked, voice dipped low, her eyes daring him.

"Ah, nothing," he backpedalled, left flustered again by her ability to manipulate him. Once upon a time he was able to elicit that kind of response from women and he both loved and cursed Beckett's ability to reduce him to a bumbling teenage boy.

"Hmmm," she hummed, "That's too bad. You ready to talk to Lee?"

He cursed himself again, but he had to know, "What's too bad? Kate?" She ignored his protests and walked along the sidewalk towards the line of police vehicles. "I'm definitely bringing this up later," he mumbled, almost to himself.

She already had her hand on the door of the cruiser in which Lee was waiting, and she didn't give her partner a chance to recover his wits before she opened it and ushered their suspect out.

###

"Thank you for waiting to speak with us, Mr. Lee," she began, politely.

The small man was neatly dressed in a casual grey suit, but his collar was skewed, the buttons twisted; either from too much fidgeting or his earlier scuffle with the deceased.

"I didn't realise I had a choice," he replied tersely, and Beckett decided that despite his Asian heritage he had obviously grown up in Manhattan.

"Can you tell us about your relationship with Raul Coronado?"

He shrugged a little, a rise of his shoulders and a glance along the street. "He was a customer."

"A regular one?" Beckett pushed, she wanted more of a feel of the man and his temperament, and even his short, impatient answers gave her something to work with.

"I suppose."

"And when we check his credit card receipts will we find a list of recent purchases?"

"He liked to browse." He looked down at his hands, not even bothering to put any conviction into his statement. He was sidestepping and they all knew it.

"What was he doing here this morning?"

"He didn't say. He looked around for a while before running out with the television."

"He must have been eager to look around; he was waiting for you outside before you opened the store. Did he have a habit of early morning visits?"

He hesitated, and stood a little taller. Beckett decided to have someone look back over recent video logs for previous early morning calls.

She took a step towards the cruiser, leaned her hips against it, and the movement brought her closer to his height. "We found a gun inside, Mr. Lee. Do you know anything about that?"

"It's mine. It's registered, and it's not like I ever used it, I keep it around just in case." He scratched at his neck, and the words started tumbling, "I didn't shoot him. You can check the video from my store. I already showed the other officer how to get it. He was already gone around the alley before he got shot."

"We're looking into that."

Castle could see it was Beckett that had the man's complete attention but he had to point out, "The rear door of your office opens onto the courtyard less than fifty feet from where Coronado was murdered."

Lee looked toward Castle, but turned back to Beckett to answer, "Yeah, but I didn't go out there. It's locked anyhow."

"Do you have the key?"

"Yeah, but I didn't go out that way," he repeated, more insistent.

"Can you think of anyone that may have had problems with Coronado? Another store-owner in the area perhaps?"

"Not that I've heard."

Beckett was getting tired of the run-around. "Okay. Well, until we have another avenue of investigation you're our prime suspect, Mr. Lee. We might need to keep your store closed for a few days while we gather evidence, look into your bank and phone records, that sort of thing," she told him, and then held his gaze while he tried to gauge how serious she was.

"Look, he owed people some money and they had him running scared. I don't know who, and I don't know how much, but when I didn't have any to give him he took the television."

"What made him think he could get a loan from you?"

"It wasn't a loan. He was trying to blackmail me."

"Over?"

"Over nothing to do with his murder," he replied defensively.

"Mr. Lee, we can do this down at the precinct if you'd feel more comfortable talking in private?" the edge in her voice made it almost a threat rather than consideration for his comfort.

"I told you, I don't know anything that can help. He was here this morning looking for cash, he seemed pretty desperate. You want to look into who was chasing _him_ for cash."

"And you were just going to let him walk out the door with your TV?"

"I thought I'd do what I could to help him out."

###

The three detectives and their writer assembled on the corner for a quick debrief.

"He was helpful," Castle said, sarcastically.

"Yeah, well, unfortunately the video surveillance backs up his story so there's not much else we can do about him. We'll head back to the precinct and see if we can dig up anything on Coronado," Beckett said, a little frustrated at not having a clear suspect.

"We're rounding up surveillance from a couple of neighbouring stores plus we got a karaoke bar that backs onto the other end of the alleyway that has something for us," Esposito added.

"Okay, you boys stay here and see what else you can get."

"Got it," they said together, and headed back to the store.

Castle and Beckett had only just sat back down in the crown vic when Castle started, "So, Beckett... a video?" he asked, pointedly looking out the window and not meeting her eye.

She knew exactly where he was going, but she strung him along anyway, "You want to stay and look at surveillance videos with the boys?"

"Noooo, I mean, that spycam," he turned to face her, eye's wide, "_I _was just looking, but you,_ you_ went straight there with the... you know."

"The 'you know'?"

"Yeah."

"You can't even say it?" she laughed at how easily flustered he became at the merest hint of anything suggestive from her. "You wanna make a movie, Castle?"

###

Castle was quiet during the elevator ride up to homicide; his brain sufficiently occupied with trying to work out if Kate was joking or not about the possible uses for a spycam. He decided he really didn't care one way or the other but the idea alone was far too wonderful to just walk away from.

A video of Beckett. A video of _him_ and Beckett. A video of him and Beckett _together_.

The possibilities were, quite frankly, mind boggling.

"It's really got you thinking, hasn't it?" she didn't even bother to hide her amusement.

He looked over at her, standing composed beside him, and wondered how should could read his mind so easily. "You can't just put those ideas out there into the universe and expect me not to think about it! Not now!"

The light had already flashed to their floor and she knew the elevator was about to stop. She ran her hand from his chest down to his stomach and leaned in, "Let me know what you come up with," she whispered, just as the elevator announced its arrival.

She'd already turned away and was ready to step through the doors the minute they slid apart. Castle followed at her heels, wondering how good his chances were of convincing her to start taking the stairs.

Captain Gates met them in the hallway and all inappropriate thoughts ended immediately.

"Detective, I heard that uniforms were holding a suspect at the scene, but that you released him?"

"Doesn't look like it was him."

"Doesn't look like it?"

"No, Sir. Video surveillance suggests he didn't follow the victim into the alleyway. We do have several leads to run down."

"Okay, keep me informed. I'd like this one to be a quick close," she said, and retreated to her office with a stern glance that seemed to linger on Castle.

Beckett mumbled to herself about how she'd like them _all_ to be quick closes, but she forced the annoyance down and continued to her desk.

The whiteboard stood gloriously blank against the wall, and she wheeled it over to its usual place behind her desk and started building her timeline. She referred to the notes she'd made on-scene and got as far as delineating the time between witness accounts of the argument and the reports of the single gunshot being heard before she stepped around to her computer to access the photographs that had already been entered directly into the system. She printed out photos of the victim, the store, and the only current suspect, despite it appearing as though he were only peripherally connected.

When she came back from the printer Castle had continued making notes along the side of the board and she realised he'd been listening to the conversation she'd had on site even if he had appeared to be paying no attention at all.

"I'll get us access to phone and financials if you want to finish that up?" she asked, handing him the photos.

"Of course." He flipped through the images before attaching them to their magnetic clips and arranging them the way he knew Beckett preferred; across the board in order of scene, victim, suspects, and evidence; before sitting back on the corner of her desk and studying the arrangement.

"Chinese mafia," he said in the silence that followed. "Coronado was putting the squeeze on Lee, so Lee had his underworld mafia friends take out a hit on him."

"I didn't see a whole lot of evidence for a connection between Lee and the Asian underworld of street crime, Castle."

"No, and I dare say that's the way he wants it," he nodded, sagely, "Either that or Coronado borrowed money from the wrong people and decided to see what kind of reprieve a plasma screen TV would buy him... but I like my first theory better."

"I think the second theory will see the case wrapped up quicker and us finishing the paperwork this afternoon."

"Theory number two does have a certain appeal," he grinned at the board, not needing to turn around to see her to know the teasing expression she'd have on her face.

"So, phones, financials, or criminal history?" Beckett offered him a choice.

He was tempted to take criminal history, feeling rather proud of the fact that she'd even offered it to him seeing as she knew the ins and outs of the rapidly changing criminal turf wars in Manhattan better than he did, but he didn't see the value of pushing further considering the sudden shift in other, more important , boundaries.

"I think his financials might have a story to tell."

"All yours," she agreed, starting the searches in the database to pull up the information they needed.

###

The ringing phone was a welcome distraction after over an hour of paperwork and Beckett all-but pounced on it.

"Hey, boss," came Esposito's cheery greeting, and she knew they must have some kind of news for her, "Looks like unis may have found our murder weapon, it's on its way to the lab now for comparison."

"Where'd they find it?" she asked.

Castle stopped pretending not to eavesdrop and put his pen down, giving her phone call his full attention.

"Halfway along the path stuck in the hedges. We got a whole load of surveillance footage too for whatever its worth," Esposito replied.

"Okay, great. You on your way back in?"

"Yeah, you want anything?"

"Nah, we're good. We've been through his known associates from previous arrests but nothing's popped. We're digging through his call log and financials now. Hopefully Lanie can get us something more on the vic or the murder weapon."

"You want us to call past and see on the way in?"

"No. Give her a chance to compare the slug to the weapon first."

"All right, see you in a bit."

Beckett hung up the phone and leaned back in her chair, one ankle coming up to cross at her knee. She rotated her neck, before linking her hands behind her head and stretching out her back muscles. Castle watched her unashamedly.

"You used to be more subtle," she said, enjoying having his eyes on her.

"So did you," he countered, sitting forward in his chair.

"Boys are on their way in." She diverted them back to the case, but she stayed where she was, leaning back in her chair, arms folded behind her head.

"They found the murder weapon." Castle replied, not really asking a question. His eyes tracked along her chest, down to her legs, and then back up, pausing at the gap at her shirt where the buttons strained across her breasts, before meeting her eyes.

Warmth spread low in her belly; the first tingling of arousal. "Looks like. Hopefully Lanie will get a match on ballistics." Beckett was starting to rethink her game. She had wanted to get his attention, but she hadn't anticipated the effect his unabashed stare would have on the direction of her own thoughts. She recognised the look in his eye and wanted to see more of it.

"Mmm. Hopefully," Castle replied, his voice low and seductive.

Beckett couldn't remember what he was talking about.

Neither spoke for a long moment, before Beckett leaned forward suddenly, dropping her hands to her lap. The sound of her heel hitting the floor made an over-loud clunk that brought Castle's eyes to her feet.

"Coffee?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said on an exhale of air, already standing.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i've worked out what the _entire_ problem is with Caskett getting it together. It's not walls or playboy pasts – it's the fact that there is no couch in the breakroom! Hello? ! What we need is a bunk room like they used to have on SVU cos Beckett is totally the kind of detective to hang around late and catch some sleep in the bunk room! Castle could bring her her morning kiss (oops, i mean morning coffee) in there... he could sit on the side of her bed... :) it would totally work!

Who do we talk to to fix this? Cos getting frisky up against the coke machine just isn't classy, people!


	33. Chapter 32 Digging for details

I am, quite frankly, appalled by the lot of you! Looking for any old hard surface to get frisky against... they're at work! And total professionals. I never! ;p

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><p>This is unbeta'ed and it's been a heck of a week so i apologise for whatever mistakes have crept in. Just pretend it's all good.<p>

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 32 – Digging for details<p>

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><p>The break room was blissfully empty. Castle turned on the espresso machine and found their mugs while he waited for the water to heat up. He was overwhelmingly aware of the woman beside him as she took up her usual position next to the machine with her back to the counter. Only this time she stood a little closer, her shoulder against the edge of the stainless steel as she sat back against the bench.<p>

Castle filled the chute with fresh beans, checked that the portafiller was clean, and then stepped sideways to brush against her as he measured out their coffee grounds.

He felt the faint tickle of her fingers on the outside of his thigh, low enough not to be visible through the windows, her body close enough to provide some small measure of a shield from the doorway. He hesitated only slightly before tamping the coffee and sliding the basket into place.

His breath caught the minute her hand began its sweep across the front of his thigh muscle to curl around the inside of his leg. "Kaaate," he whimpered. He fumbled with the mugs, before leaving them to roll sideways on the drip tray as he leaned against the machine.

"What's wrong, Castle," Kate purred, and her hand inched higher up the inside of his leg.

"What are you doing?" he growled out, and reached down to grab her fingers, entwining them with his own; he was already responding to her.

"I thought you were making coffee?" she taunted.

"I'm trying, but somebody is very distracting."

"Can't concentrate on two things at once?"

"When one of those things is you? Not even close." He tugged her in towards his body, turning her so she was facing him with her back to the door, and let his hand splay from her hip to her stomach, his thumb circling low under her belly button.

"You shouldn't start something you can't finish," she said, breathless.

"I don't ever want to finish."

Kate's attention was focused on the movement of his lips as he spoke and she felt herself drawing closer. His thumb barely grazed over her stomach but it caused the fabric to move and bunch over her skin; a phantom of his touch across her. She pressed into his hand wanting more of him against her; the memories of them together were too fresh, and she knew exactly what he could do with his mouth and his hands.

Movement through the window brought her back to the present, and Kate became aware first of the rapid rise of her chest, and then the sounds from the bullpen intruded over the beat of her heart in her ears.

Their hands might have been hidden below the level of the window but they were standing too close, the look passing between them too intimate, to be anything near professional.

She stepped back, exhaling unsteadily, and leaned again on the bench with her hands gripping the edge both to help support her weight and to keep them from wandering.

"You're too good at that," she accused, her voice thick with arousal.

"Must be my inspiration." Castle knew he should give them both a chance to regain control, but the need in her eyes and the peaks of her breasts visible through her shirt made him want more. Seeing her unable to control her response to his touch was intoxicating.

He made a show of righting their mugs but even though he faced the machine his eyes dipped low to her hands where her knuckles clenched white on the bench. He brushed across them, and over to her hip, down the front of her thigh.

He was rewarded with the hitch of her breathing and a tremor that ran through her body.

She'd followed the path of his fingers with her eyes and couldn't look away, "Castle, I am this close to seeing if they keep the janitor's closet locked."

"They don't," he whispered.

She laughed at that, nudging his hand away from her but keeping her eyes down. "You've checked?"

"Not for that, but I was wandering around one night."

"Looking in closets?" Beckett latched onto the humour to help dispel the tension in her belly and the weight in her limbs.

"You make it sound creepy."

"No more so than usual."

Castle deliberately brought his hands up to espresso machine and shifted his balance, sliding one foot out to nudge against hers and creating a gentle pressure along their sides; seeking a connection that wouldn't overwhelm them.

They stood side-by-side in silence while Castle focused on the task of making their coffees; both letting the ritual, the scent and the sounds, relax them.

As he added the steamed milk to their mugs, and they came close to having to re-enter the chaos of the bullpen, Castle spoke again, "Alexis texted me earlier; wanted to know if you were coming for dinner tonight. I told her I'd ask," he began, not wanting to assume but hoping she already had plans to spend the night.

"Yeah, she texted me too. I said yes."

"Did you now?" he asked, pleased, and he passed her mug to her.

"I didn't think I'd have to check with you to make sure it was okay."

"It's always okay."

"I'm going to head home first though," she paused while he took a sip of his own coffee, and they watched each other over the rims of their mugs, "I'm going to pack a bag."

"Good. I'll make a space for your toothbrush in my bathroom."

The words, spoken so casually, sat heavy with import and they both understood the magnitude of what was being offered and accepted. They let the world around them fade away for a moment and simply stood leaning against the counter, torsos tilted together, as they sipped their coffees.

Eventually Kate spoke, "You ready to get back to work?"

"With you?" the affection in his eyes made her smile before he'd even finished replying, "Absolutely."

###

Ryan and Esposito were standing behind their desks removing their jackets when Castle and Beckett came out of the break room.

"Hey, guys," she greeted them both, glad for the evenness of her voice.

"You good for us to start running those surveillance vids?"

"Yeah, start with pedestrian access to the walkway. I want to see who was hanging around."

"Okay, you get any further with the vic's statements?"

"Not really," Beckett replied, looking at her desk and the paperwork that hadn't been touched since they'd spoken on the phone.

"You want me to grab us some lunch while we go through all this?" Castle asked, cheerfully.

"Wouldn't hurt, in case Lanie gives us something to move on," Beckett agreed.

"Okay. Special requests?" he asked, looking at all three detectives.

Ryan and Espo both voiced their agreement with a chorus of, "No, man," and, "Whatever you get's fine."

Beckett offered him a smile that had little to do with lunch. He finished the last of his coffee and placed the empty mug on his desk before grabbing his jacket. They exchanged over-large grins and he walked out of the precinct with a bounce in his step.

"Castle's in a good mood," Ryan observed.

Nobody replied.

###

"Aargh! There's nothing here," Ryan said, frustrated, pushing back away from his computer. "Are you having more luck?"

"The guy's been maxed out on his cards for months and there was nothing in his bank account. If he had any money he was stashing it under his mattress. Which might have been somewhere to start except the address listed with the DMV is out of date," Beckett replied, equally discouraged.

"And we got nothing from his phone?"

"Ah, that's me," Castle said, swapping printouts, "In the last month he had two outgoing calls to his probation officer, the rest is all text messages to people with names like Boneman and Dipsy, all burner cells, and the messages look like someone chewed up and spat out the alphabet."

"You need help deciphering text-speak, Castle?"

"Please! I am the cool dad of a teenager. I know all about text-speak. Take a look," Castle passed over the printed log, "His text conversations reach a whole new level of low."

"You hear back from his probation officer?" Esposito asked Beckett.

"Yeah, he wasn't aware of any problems. After his six months community service he was dropped back to monthy reports. He hasn't heard from him in three weeks but up until then everything had been fine. As far as he knows he wasn't involved in any gang activity and wasn't consorting."

"What about the community service angle?

"Finished up two months ago but I got a call in just in case. He was helping at a community church so I'm hoping they might have hooked him up with a shelter of some kind or know where he was staying."

"Can we access the tracking information in his cell and see where he was when most of those text messages were sent?" Castle asked.

"That's actually not a bad idea." Beckett agreed.

"I've been known to come up with a good idea every now and then, Detective."

"Ryan can you put a request in with his phone provider? And Espo, if you could dig a little into his connection with Lee? They clearly had history and I want to know what Coronado had on him. Until we can find evidence that link them we're not going to get a search warrant to look into him any further." Beckett glanced at her watch, "I'm gonna give Lanie a call, see if she's got anything for us yet."

###

Lanie marched them straight past the sheet-draped body of their victim and over to her work area at the side of the autopsy bay.

"I don't have much for you on the victim; I can confirm your witness reports for time and cause of death, and the bullet was a match to the thirty-eight special that was recovered on scene. Buuuut," she paused, and handed over a file, "We got prints and DNA off the weapon. Still running the DNA but the prints were in the system." She leaned over Beckett's arm and tapped the police-booking photograph.

"Henry Lee," Beckett read off the printout, "Eighteen years old."

"Looks like most of his sheet is sealed for juvenile offences, but lucky for you he got done for auto-theft on his eighteenth birthday," Lanie supplied while Beckett scanned the brief criminal history.

"Henry Lee? Any relation to our Radiorama Lee?" Castle asked, leaning to read the report from over her shoulder.

Beckett's 'what do you think' expression as she stepped away from the shadow of his body was enough of an answer.

"Why'd you tell us to come down? If there's nothing with the body you could have just emailed this?"

"I also wanted to tell you that the victim had a blood-alcohol reading of point-oh-eight," she said, although from the tone of her voice it was clear she knew that wasn't enough to warrant a trip to the morgue either.

"So he got an early start. No doubt he was a fan of the 'five o'clock somewhere' line of thinking," Castle mused.

Beckett gave his comment only half a smile and returned her attention to the M.E., "And?"

"And I think we need some girl time," Lanie said, decidedly, "You busy tonight?"

Beckett and Castle both stilled at her words, "I can't tonight, but you're right, we do need a night out."

Beckett was aware that they'd spent the last four days and three nights with barely any time apart, and was a little surprised to find that she wasn't feeling stifled by it. The time they spent together outside of the precinct felt so different that, even when they were sitting across their desk from each other, she found herself missing him and the person he was when surrounded by his family or they were alone.

"Castle," Lanie said brusquely, "Can I borrow my girl for just a few minutes?"

Castle looked back and forth between the two women, "Uh, sure? You want me to wait outside?"

"Or upstairs?" Lanie suggested, her head tilting as she crossed her arms over her chest.

"Upstairs? Really?" He sent Beckett a silent plea, and when she shrugged her agreement, he backed slowly out through the swinging doors looking dejected.

They waited until the doors swung closed on his retreating figure before Lanie pounced, "Spill."

"Not here," Kate shook her head, grinning broadly.

Lanie looked victorious, "That smile is all I needed to see. I take it you found a solution to yesterday's jitters?"

"We did. Several solutions," she smirked.

"I can't believe you're going to leave me hanging. If we didn't have a case I'd be dragging you to lunch."

"I know, and we do need to catch up, maybe after we close this case? There's so much going on up here," she tapped the side of her head, "and you're the only person that really understands how much this means to me, Lanie."

"Not the only person," Lanie reached for her hand and squeezed reassuringly, "I dare say Writer-Boy has a pretty good idea."

"Yeah, he does," she sighed happily, "But I can't jump up and down and tell him how crazy-good he makes me feel. His ego is big enough."

"Ego or not, I think that's something he'd like to know."

"Yeah, I know" she replied tentatively, "but one thing at a time."

"Don't wait too long to tell him. He's good for you. I can't remember the last time you wore that face-splitting grin of yours. Did I, or did I not, tell you that man would be gooood!" she let go of her hand to wack her on the arm playfully.

Kate laughed, "It's not just that," at the unimpressed look on Lanie's face she gave in, "Okay, you were unbelievably right but, beyond that, I feel like I can finally start breathing. I thought I had this wall inside that held me back from committing in a relationship but, with Castle it's like... not only is the wall gone but he's taken this weight off me – and I can breathe."

"Honey, we've all been thankful for six months that you're still breathing. I'm glad you're finally joining us."

Kate was silent for a long moment. Even if she had the words to reply, her throat felt too tight to be able to speak them.

Lanie wrapped her in a hug, "That does not mean that I am not reserving the right to tease you both mercilessly."

Kate let out a short bark of laughter and returned her embrace, "I would expect nothing less."

When they separated they were both still smiling, "And don't think those rosy cheeks and that sparkle in your eye is gonna get you out of dishin' all the details. When we catch up, and we _will_ catch up, I want specifics."

"Hmmm, I don't know," Kate started towards the door, "What if there isn't much to tell?" she asked in a teasing sing-song and she pushed the door open wide with one hand and stepped out sideways.

Lanie glared at her retreating figure as she disappeared into the hall and the door was left to swing wildly back and forth. The sound of laughter floated back to her.

"Yeah, right. As if I'd believe that!" she scoffed to the cadaver on her slab.

###

Castle was waiting inside the foyer, two coffees in hand, when Beckett exited the elevator. She had her phone to her ear, getting the ball rolling with a deeper look into Henry Lee, and she automatically reached for the paper cup before they fell into step. They pushed through the doors and onto the sidewalk as she ended the call, and they continued side-by-side towards the vehicle without having spoken.

Beckett was about to take a sip of the coffee when he blurted out, "It's decaf. I wasn't sure you'd want another one but I felt conspicuous hanging around."

"That's fine. Thank you."

She had the cup raised to her lips again when he added, "Also, it tastes really bad."

"Gee, thanks, Castle."

"No problem."

She took a smaller sip to test it. He was right, it was bad, but she'd had worse; although not recently, she realised.

Beckett didn't address the subject of her conversation with Lanie. They were back in the car and weaving through traffic and, the longer the silence drew out, the more Castle twitched in his seat and the more Beckett had to clench her jaw to stop from smiling.

"Looks like we found our connection between Lee and Coronado," she said, more to torture him than from any desire to run theory on the case.

"Hmmm? Yeah, the blackmail," he replied, with about the same degree of enthusiasm, "I didn't really get the impression from Mr Lee that he was trying to cover up his son's involvement in the murder though. He didn't seem all that passionate in his denial, just... inconvenienced."

"Not everyone has the kind of relationship you and Alexis share. It's possible that's how he saw it; as an inconvenience."

"Maybe," Castle replied, and as the silence stretched out again he went back to furtive sideway glances.

Beckett thought he might actually restrain himself completely, but as they pulled into the parking lot of the precinct he finally broke, "So, you're heading out with Lanie?"

"Nothing definite, but yeah."

"Girls night out?"

"Something like that. We've got a lot to catch up on."

Castle nodded, "You told her about us."

"I did," she agreed, her tone teasing, "Then we exchanged high fives. We're going out next week so I can tell her all about how good you are in bed."

"What?" he turned in his seat to look at her, his brow furrowed, "Kate!"

"Get over yourself, Castle," She undid her seatbelt and gave him the briefest of glances before smiling out the window, "You really think that's the only thing women talk about when they get together?"

"Hey, I live with two women. I know exactly what they talk about. Which is why I'm worried."

"Trust me; you've got nothing to worry about." She opened the door and stepped out of the car without waiting for a reply.

"What does that mean?" he said as soon as his door was open and he had scrambled out, "I have nothing to worry about because you won't be talking about us? Or because..."

She smiled over her shoulder but didn't stop to wait for him as she crossed the garage.

He chased after her, already looking forward to the elevator ride upstairs.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i will leave the elevator ride to your imaginations, but i'd like to think there was no one else waiting in the garage to ride up with them. Bonus points for anyone that writes and shares an elevator scene with me! Lol!


	34. Chapter 33 Questions

**Huge A/N-** Doing my best to condense the case into 42minutes plus ad breaks ;) but, although when the call first came in i will admit i had no idea why there had to be a murder, it turns out it's going somewhere so hang in there.

And thank you for the reviews and messages commenting on my superior story outline and ability to weave a new case into this. I hate to vastly disappoint you but there is no story outline. I am the most undisciplined writer ever and the thought of having to plan a story leaves me beyond-baffled. How would i know what they're going to do before they get there? I will leave that to people more skilled that i.

This was supposed to be a one-shot - just the prologue and the link up and then i was going to have them fall straight into bed ;) - but i was writing it at the kitchen table while doing science experiments with the kids and had no inclination to write a scene with Caskett in bed ;p so i figured, hey! let's go and see if i can write the backstory with those crazy things that i made up and said happened. So i did. And there was no plan except i had to make those things happen somehow. And then i got back to them at the front door and it no longer suited to have them get jiggy. So i kept writing! And more stuff happened! And they started talking and being all honest with each other! And then there was the sex. And then the tv dude got shot. And it wasn't until they'd already left the crime scene that i had any clue who even did it!

So, there is no plan, but now (thankfully) the end is in sight so i'm getting close to having some idea what has to happen. Until then I'm just babbling! And you all get to listen along (ain't the internet grand).

* * *

><p><strong>Erosion-<strong>  
>Chapter 33 - Questions<p>

* * *

><p>Beckett and Castle barely had time to remove their coats before Ryan and Esposito were handing over the information they'd found on Henry Lee. Their computer screens were both filled with police reports, and his photo took centre stage in the suspects column on the murderboard.<p>

"He looks good?" Beckett asked, flipping through the new file.

"Yeah, done some time in juvie, hasn't lived with his old man since the age of fourteen, but his grandmother took him in after his last stint for misdemeanour assault. He's doing his community service through the same church as our victim."

"You get in touch with them?"

"The program supervisor is back from a meeting in a half hour. We were gonna head over and see him in person."

"Great. He still living with his grandmother?"

"According to records he is, and we've got a call in for his phone logs; see if we can put him in the vicinity this morning."

"You recall anything from the surveillance videos?" Beckett asked Ryan.

"No, but we'll call back past the scene and see if anyone saw the kid hanging around."

"Okay, great. Go see Mr Lee first; I want to know what Coronado was blackmailing him with. Castle and I will see if we can get enough for a search warrant before we go pay the son a visit."

###

"I've got two texts to Coronado from his cell; the first was ten days ago and then at a similar time a week later; Wednesday." Castle shuffled through the pile of paperwork looking for the corresponding call log, "Do we know what he does on Wednesdays?" he asked as he skimmed the list looking for the right date.

"Not that I'm aware of," Beckett replied, somewhat distractedly, her attention fixed upon her computer screen, "Lee is into something though. There's been three deposits, each over $2,000, in the last month, paid in cash. The most recent was Monday. I'll see if we can find out from the bank who made the deposits."

She reached for the desk phone just as it began to ring, and answered with a pointed, "Beckett."

"Hey, boss. We just finished chatting to Mr Lee," Ryan said, getting straight to business, "Seems his kid might not have learnt his lesson. Apparently Coronado had evidence that he was stealing cars and threatened to turn him in if his Dad didn't pay up."

"So the blackmail could well be our link."

"Looks like it, only Mr Lee said he made it clear he wasn't interested."

"He had no intention of paying?"

"Nope. He claims he told him it was time he accepted responsibility for his choices and he wasn't going to bail him out."

"Was he there this morning?"

"He said the last time he saw his son was three months ago at his court hearing. He confirmed that he lives with the grandmother, though."

"Okay. The kid had a number of large cash deposits made into his account over the last month. When you talk to his supervisor see if knows what he might have been into. If he was stealing cars I want to know who he was spending time with and where. Maybe put a call into the unit that handled his last arrest and see if he was on their radar for anything recent. We'll go pay his grandmother a visit."

"On to it."

"Thanks, Ryan."

Castle waited until she'd hung up the phone, "So, we're back to the blackmail?"

"Seems like it. Let me get the ball rolling with the bank and we'll go see what the man himself has to say."

###

"I worry every time the police come to knock on my door," Mrs Lee said in heavily accented English as she ushered them into a small living room decorated in shades of pale yellow and lilac. The furniture and wall hangings spoke of a strong connection with her heritage and Beckett found herself admiring a painting of a gold and red phoenix flying through a maelstrom of fire.

"We're sorry to have frightened you, ma'am, but we were hoping to speak with your grandson, Henry."

"You should sit and wait," she said, gesturing for them to take a seat in one of several chairs arranged around a carved wooden table. "He is usually home soon."

The diminutive woman barely reached their elbows even with her hair wound in an elaborate top-knot. She smiled and encouraged them over to the twin-seater divan while she sat opposite them in a gorgeously cushioned armchair that almost swallowed her whole.

"Have you seen him today?" Castle asked, shuffling into place.

"Not since breakfast. He helps unload for his Uncle today," the elderly woman volunteered.

"You had breakfast with him here this morning?" Beckett asked.

"We did."

"What time was that, do you remember?"

"Of course I remember," she replied with a look of amused tolerance, "We ate at seven."

"And he left to help his Uncle straight after breakfast?"

"No. He does not help his Uncle until nine."

"Where did he go after breakfast?"

"Nowhere. He stayed with me and we read together," she tapped her fingers against her knee and leaned forward, "I know he is not in trouble, so why do you ask?"

"Have you spoken to your son, Shen, today?"

"No," she said abruptly, her spine straightening, "We do not talk often. Why?"

It was the first time she had displayed any overt emotion, and Beckett wondered at the depth of the family feud, "There was an incident at his shop this morning."

"Henry was not involved. He is not trouble any more, he grow into a man and move past the bad times with his father. If Shen has trouble it is not from Henry."

"What does he help his Uncle with, Mrs Lee?" Castle asked

"He owns a store at the Market on Essex St. His delivery comes on Saturdays and so Henry unload the stock."

The sound of a key in the lock put an end to the conversation in the room, and Beckett was standing even before they heard the door open. Mrs Lee was slower to her feet, but she left the room immediately to greet her grandson.

They spoke in Chinese, and Castle tried to catch what they were saying.

"She's just telling him to be polite, I think, and he's not in trouble," he relayed to Beckett.

"You're going to have to tell me how you learnt Chinese," she whispered, impressed, and stepped away from the circle of chairs towards the open section of living area, "I've read your books, Castle, there are no Chinese characters in any of them so you can't tell me it was for research."

Castle made a shushing sound and shooed her in front of him with one hand while his other settled at her hip as he followed close behind. Beckett looked over her shoulder at him, eyebrow quirked in amusement, and her gaze flicked between his hand and his eyes to draw attention to his trespass – as if he wasn't fully aware of it.

"Then pay attention –" he stopped abruptly as their suspect entered the room.

Beckett turned to face the young man, instantly professional, "Henry, I'm Detective Beckett, and this is Mr Castle," she said, holding her position several yards from him, "We'd like to speak with you regarding your whereabouts this morning."

He hesitated only slightly, flicking a quick glance towards his grandmother, but it was enough to be noticeable. "I was at the market with Uncle Jian," he shrugged and stuffed both hands deep in his pockets.

"And before that?"

"Before that nowhere. I have curfew and have to be home by midnight."

"Is there anyone apart from your uncle that could verify your being at work?" Castle asked, firmly.

"Yeah, anyone at the market," he seemed to gain confidence and his hands left his pockets to gesture slightly as he spoke, "I signed for the first truck right after nine."

"What time did you leave here?"

"About 8:30, a bit before."

"How much before?" Beckett pushed.

"Not much. I don't know. There's a girl at the cafe on the corner; I called past to say hi."

"We'll need her details."

He nodded in response, and for a moment the room fell silent.

"Are these the clothes you left the house in this morning?" Beckett asked.

Henry looked down at his clothing in surprise, "Yeah, why? The market's not dressy."

"Do you mind if we take them with us?"

"Hell, yeah, I mind!" he said in a burst of teenage ire.

At a bark from his grandmother he rolled his eyes and spoke again, "Sorry, Detective, but this here's a good jacket, why do you want it?"

"There was an incident this morning at your father's store."

The young man scoffed, "Good, give him something other than _my _business to worry about."

"Do you own a gun, Mr Lee?"

"No. That would be against the requirements of my probation," he replied, with an edge of mockery to his tone.

"Have you been in possession of a gun in the past?"

"If you mean like have I owned one? Then; no." He shifted, appearing uncomfortable, and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Would you be able to explain how your fingerprints were found on a weapon involved in a homicide this morning?"

"A homicide? Like a murder? Not a chance," he shook his head vehemently. "I got friends that have guns and maybe a long while back I played around with them but I'm not anywhere near a dead guy," he spoke quickly and emphatically, and Beckett was disappointed to realise that, even if she didn't fully believe him, she didn't think he was directly responsible for the murder.

"What's your connection with Raul Coronado?"

"Raul? Yeah, you should ask Raul!" he said, eagerly, "He's been one angry son of bi-" he broke off at a sharp rap across his back from his grandmother.

"Does Raul have any connection to your father's store?" Castle asked.

"Why would he? I can't imagine Raul would be good enough for my father to talk to," he said angrily. "Hang on, who was murdered at the store? It wasn't...? He looked to his grandmother, eyes wide, and Beckett saw a young man's concern for his father despite his angry words.

"No, it wasn't your father," Beckett assured him,"Raul Coronado was shot and killed after having spoken with your father." She watched him intently as he processed her words, "Do you have any idea why Raul would have gone to see your father?"

"Raul's dead?" he asked.

"Yes. What would he have to talk to your father about?"

"I don't know," he replied, his voice quiet.

Beckett could see him trying to make sense of the information and she gave him a moment to gather his thoughts. "When was the last time you spoke to Raul?"

"We clean up around the place for Reverend Kenner on Mondays, so not since then."

"What was your relationship with him?"

"What relationship? It's not like we were tight. I saw him once a week and he spent all day every day whining about his bad luck."

"What kind of bad luck?" Castle asked.

"All kinds," he shrugged, "He had no money or his momma left him or how he never gets a break."

"Do you know of anyone who might have had a reason to want Raul dead?"

"I know wherever he was living they wanted him out because he wasn't coming up with any rent."

###

"What do you think?" Castle said once they were back in the privacy of the crown vic.

"He's too glib, but his concern for his father and his surprise at Raul's death seemed genuine."

"You didn't push him about the blackmail?"

Afternoon traffic was beginning to pick up and Beckett didn't reply until she'd merged onto Allen St, "I want to hang on to that. If we have something concrete to press him on down at the station we might get more out of him."

"The blackmail is just too good a motive to rule him out based on an alibi from his grandmother."

"Let's see if the girl at the coffee shop can confirm his statement. Unless we can pinpoint exactly when he left there the timeline is not clear enough to rule him out. And I want to get his jacket over to CSU to check for gunshot residue."

"That's a long shot if he's worn it all day."

"Especially considering he gave it up willingly."

"I'm not sure if it counts as willing if your grandmother bullies you into it."

"True," Beckett agreed, smiling at the memory.

"So, we know Coronado was paying regular visits to Mr Lee, could there be a pattern?" Castle suggested. Beckett looked over at him, waiting for more, and he turned in his seat to face her. "Lanie said he had an alcohol reading of point oh eight, are there any bars in the area that are open all night? Maybe he's meeting someone, exchanging information before he hits up the father for money."

"A contact that's passing on information about Henry?" she followed his line of thought.

"He said he had proof? We didn't find anything on the body, or in the store; so what kind of proof?"

"It would have to have been more than word of mouth if he was threatening to go to the police."

"So photographs or video. But where is it?"

Beckett's fingers tapped out a beat on the steering wheel, "We need to know where he was living."

"And if Henry was the only target for the blackmail?"

"Or was there a reason why he singled Henry out? We need to know what else Ryan and Espo have."

Beckett was quiet for a moment, and when she spoke again her voice was softer, "Want me to drop you home on the way back to the precinct after this?"

She slowed the vehicle as they came through the intersection, pulling over to park on the corner directly in front of the coffee shop.

Castle debated his answer. There would always be more leads to chase down but there was nothing that couldn't wait until tomorrow when they had DNA reports and GSR tests to direct their investigation. While he would happily spend all day every day in her company, now more than ever, he was aware of not wanting to crowd her.

"I should probably spend a couple of hours with Alexis," he agreed but even he noticed the absence of the enthusiasm that was usually present when he thought of spending time with his daughter.

"I'll head back in and see what the boys found, fill Gates in, but it's not looking like we're going to make a lot of progress today."

"And you're coming over tonight?"

"I said I would," she looked at him, puzzled.

"You're okay with another dinner with Mother and Alexis?"

"I like your family, and I enjoy spending time with them. Why wouldn't I be okay with dinner?"

"I wasn't sure if four nights in a row was too much? I don't want you to feel –"

She reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his jacket, "You know how I feel, and if four nights was too much I would have told you it was too much. You deserve better than that, Castle," she tugged at his sleeve causing his arm to rise and fall against his leg, "Stop assuming the worst, and stop making excuses for me in your head."

"_I_ deserve better?" he questioned her.

"You do. I know I haven't always gotten it right, but I've spent half the day waiting to crawl into your arms and the other half loving that we can just get the job done."

"Okay," he said, apologising with a nod of his head, "Let's go finish this interview – get the job done – because I'll admit you crawling into my arms is close to what I've been waiting for all day as well."

"Only close?"

"Crawling sounds a little gentler than what I had in mind in my version."

"Hmmm, what was I wearing in your version?"

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** I'll have another update same time tomorrow. Be scared. Stuff's happening.


	35. Chapter 34 The Best Intentions

Thanks to Deb for the last-minute read through and edits. Mwah!

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 34- The Best Intentions<p>

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><p>Kate felt conspicuous as she walked past Castle's doorman and into the foyer. Her overstuffed bag knocked awkwardly against her leg with each step but it had come down to either squashing a selection of jackets and shoes into the large travel bag, or bring two bags, and for some reason arriving with two bags seemed more embarrassing than it was worth.<p>

She knew Gates would give them all a day off once they closed their current case, and Kate had high hopes that something would fall into place with Henry, or either the DNA or blackmail angle would lead them quickly to a suspect. She looked forward to them having that time together without the distraction of work, and until then she didn't much care what arriving with luggage said about her need to be with him. She wanted to surround herself with him without having to worry about clean underwear and matching shoes.

Still, she drew the line at a one bag. It wasn't as if she were moving in.

Her anticipation built the closer the elevator rose to his floor and Kate couldn't wait to walk in the door and kick off her shoes. But it was the image in her mind beyond wrapping her arms around him that surprised her; it was her tucked into his side in the kitchen with his family, it was the freedom to share smiles and to touch and to be together without the tension of enforced distance and the pretence that they had kept up for so long.

Knocking briefly on his door she adjusted the weight of her bag against her legs, holding the handle with both hands.

The door swung wide and Castle welcomed her, wooden spoon in hand, wearing a white apron that was anything but manly and a smile that made her stomach jolt. Her laugh came unbidden and she experienced a moment of pure awe that this crazy, beautiful man could love her enough to make his stand beside her.

They moved into each other, not bothering to shut the door or exchange hellos, just the inevitable joining of chest to chest, and lips to lips. Her world shrank to an eternity in that one moment and the only conscious thought she had was how very much she loved him.

The emotion bubbled up within her and Kate couldn't fathom why she hadn't told him before. They'd spent hours upon hours lying in each other's arms and she'd guarded the truth of her feelings for him so strongly, and now, standing at his front door, she couldn't_ not_ tell him.

His hand slipped to her waist as he pulled away and he looked her over as if it had been days rather than hours since he'd seen her last. His mouth was upturned, laugh-lines feathering from his eyes, as he took her in. Her bag, still clutched tightly in both hands, bumped between their shins and pulled at her arms.

Her heart pounded as she waited, waited, for him to look her in the eye. When his gaze came to rest on hers, she opened her mouth to speak, suddenly realising she didn't know what to say, or how to put the depth of her feelings for him into words. Could it be as simple as 'I love you'? Is that all she had to say? The words caught in her throat.

Instead of a declaration, a huff of breath and a strangled sound that was nothing like her own voice escaped her, and Castle looked down at the bag in her hands.

"Sorry," he reached to take it from her, "I should take that," he said quickly, and then quirked a brow at her when he felt the weight of it.

"No," she protested, grabbing at his wrist.

"No? You don't want me to take it?"

"No, that's not what..."

"Richard, for heaven's sake, at least let her step inside," Martha chastised from across the room.

Kate looked over guiltily, the heat of a blush on her skin, as she remembered herself.

Later. They'd have plenty of time later.

"The bag's fine, Castle, thanks."

"Can I put it in the bedroom?" he asked.

She ran her hand up the length of his arm and nodded. Castle reached behind her to close the door before he walked around the corner and disappeared into this study.

Kate removed her own coat and hung it in his closet; it was the first time he hadn't performed the chore for her. She removed her shoes, debated taking them into his bedroom, and decided on the floor of the hall closet instead.

Castle returned from his bedroom as she began to cross the foyer to the kitchen and he met her halfway, his hand at her back like she imagined. The room smelt of tomato and basil. Alexis stood behind the stove stirring a large pot, and she said her hello with a smile.

Martha hovered, one arm outstretched, at the overhead cabinets, "Who's joining me in a glass of wine?" she asked, reaching into the cabinet and bringing down two glasses.

"Of course," Kate agreed taking a seat.

Castle continued into the kitchen to stand behind his daughter, "Hey, that was my job," he complained, trying to take back his place at the stovetop.

"Dereliction of duty; you're lucky it didn't burn," his daughter teased.

"I should feel more apologetic, but I was required elsewhere."

"Ah, from waiting to not waiting for you," Alexis replied, the lilt of her voice made it clear she was quoting, and Castle paused, trying to place the words.

Martha interrupted by handing him a wine glass and the already-opened bottle, and nudged him back towards their guest, "We may all die of thirst whilst we wait." She placed another two glasses on the counter behind him and stepped away to the fridge.

Castle took the hint and dropped his spoon. He arranged the glasses on the bench and slid them along until he faced his partner. She sat with her elbows on the bench, her chin resting on her palm, as she watched them. He'd never seen her smile as openly as she had over the past two days and he felt both blessed and awestruck by the thought that he might have something to do with the happiness he saw in her.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hey," she replied, eyes meeting.

"I'm glad you're here." It took him a moment before he was able to look away.

He poured three glasses, pushed hers toward her hand, before placing the bottle back on the counter. He leaned down to rest his own elbows on the bench in front of her. Neither offered a toast, but Rick felt the weight of her stare on him as they took a sip together.

Her willingness to share their time together with his family felt even more intimate, more telling, than the time they'd spent alone.

"Dad said you had a new case." Alexis said, breaking the silence.

Kate was slow to respond, but her eyes eventually left his and she sat back in her chair before replying, "We do. I was hoping for a day of paperwork with the rest of the weekend off, but apparently someone had other ideas."

"The person that was killed, and your suspect, they're about my age?"

"I didn't tell you that," Rick protested, standing upright.

"No, but I could tell by the way you were talking about poor choices and not having a chance to overcome them that you were bothered more than usual."

"Too perceptive," he said in a faux-whisper to Kate.

"I'm not sure how solid our suspect is for it, but yeah, they're both about your age."

Rick felt the need to reassure his daughter, "I think if it turns out that the young man wasn't involved he'll do alright. He seems to have the support of his grandmother even if his father isn't there for him."

"I wouldn't be so quick to disregard the father," Martha disagreed, "Never underestimate the protective instincts of a parent. He might not welcome his son into his home, but protect him from an outside threat? In a heartbeat," she said, finger waving to make her point.

"I really haven't discussed the case as fully as it might appear by the conversation," Castle said, frowning at his family.

"He really hasn't, Detective Beckett," Alexis assured, coming to his defence.

To his relief Kate just shook her head, "Keep going, I'm open to a new perspective."

"You did say, however, that blackmail was involved," Martha pressed on, "You know yourself, Richard, no matter how much you might want for Alexis to shape her own future, to grow into the beautiful creature that she will become, you would still step in, behind the scenes as it were, if that future were threatened."

"Thankfully, I don't think we'll have to test that theory," he said, smiling at his daughter.

"I agree with you," Kate replied, "Unfortunately, unless he had help, it doesn't look like the father was directly involved."

"Then he had help," Martha replied emphatically.

"Mother."

"What? I'm just suggesting that's where I would look."

"Well, when Kate needs your help to investigate a murder I'm sure she'll ask."

"If I recall correctly, she never asked for your help either, and yet there you are!"

"She has a point," Kate teased.

Castle clasped his hand to his chest in mock outrage,"Hey, whose side are you on?"

"I want to know who's ready to eat?" Alexis asked, interrupting their banter.

"I'm starved," Kate replied.

"Then, Dad, make yourself useful and drain the pasta? We want to eat."

###

"Are we going to watch a movie?" Rick asked no one in particular as he passed a plate to his daughter to dry.

Kate took her turn to stand at the sink and wait for the next offering, "I don't mind," she replied.

"I received the final edits back from the publishers today and I wouldn't mind looking through them. It will only take a half hour; you could start without me?" Rick suggested, passing over another plate.

Kate stepped over to the cabinet, drying as she walked, and Alexis took her place at the sink, "I'd love to, Dad, but I have my final interview tomorrow for my new internship. I want to be prepared."

"Prepared? If you did any more research into Klein and Costers you could apply for a position on the board."

"Don't worry about Kate and I," Martha called out from her position at the dining table. "We'll entertain each other while you get some work done."

"Oh, why do I find that thought so terrifying? I think I might be better off leaving Nikki until tomorrow."

"Nonsense!"

Kate chuckled at him, "It'll be fun to gossip about you behind your back."

"Hmm, I'm not sure if fun is the right word."

Kate wrapped one arm loosely around his waist and stood beside him at the sink, "Let me spend some time with your mother, she asked to speak to me last night and we didn't get a chance after dinner."

"You sure?"

"She probably wants to ask me about my intentions," she grinned at him, turning her head to press against his shoulder.

"And what are your intentions?"

###

Castle disappeared from view and the door to the study closed with a click. A glass of wine was placed on the table in front of Kate and she turned her head away from the door to look up as Martha took the chair directly across the corner from her. Her smile faltered a little at the serious expression the older woman wore.

"It is lovely to have you here, dear," she said gently, her hand resting briefly on Kate's forearm before she reached for her wine glass and leaned back in her chair. "I will admit that for a while there I had serious doubts that you would be here like this."

It took Kate a second to steel herself for what was clearly going to be a more important conversation that she had expected, "I know. Part of me regrets the time we wasted, the time_ I_ wasted, but if that's what it took to get us here..."

"You wouldn't change a thing." Martha acknowledged.

"It's too tempting to dwell on regrets. I'd prefer to think that having made the mistake once I won't make it again." Kate's attempt to reassure Martha was as much for herself, as for the older woman.

"Hmmm. It's not been an easy path."

Kate wondered, not for the first time, what advice her own mother would pass on to her if she were able. What words of wisdom shared between mother and daughter might have helped to make the journey easier.

She twirled the stem of her wineglass between forefinger and thumb before she answered, "No, it hasn't been easy. But no matter how much I may have wanted to, I wouldn't have been able to be here like this if I had tried sooner."

"You'll think it odd when I say that despite the sweet time the pair of you took to get here I was still surprised when Alexis told me that the two of you spent the night, talking, and that you stayed."

"We had a lot to talk about."

"And yet, there is still more," Martha declared resignedly.

"More of what?"

"Richard was both cursed and blessed with a great deal of talent, and no small measure of charm," Martha started, and Kate became nervous at the change in direction. "Until he met you he had never had cause to truly look at himself and wonder who he was as a man; to measure his worth as it were. And I hate to admit it, but neither did I. I have always loved him deeply, and taken great pride in his accomplishments, but when he started working alongside you I saw in him a level of passion and principle that I never expected to see."

Castle had told her something similar, yet accepting what might have been positive changes in him also meant accepting the darkness she had brought into his life, "He changed me as well, he helped me to find that part of myself that had been missing. I wish I could have become the person he deserves sooner," her hand came up to rest in the valley between her breasts, "Maybe we could have gotten here without the hurt."

"That was a terrifying time for us all." Martha leaned forward and grasped her hand firmly, "Kate, darling, I know the depth of what my son feels for you and, quite frankly, I don't blame you for being intimidated by that. He would do anything to keep you safe even if it meant giving you up."

The unease Kate had started to feel during the conversation began to increase and she experienced the first stirrings of fear. Her faith that he would never give up on her, never let her walk away from him again, had been crucial to her being able to take this leap with him. To have his mother suggest otherwise left her floundering and she couldn't find her voice to respond.

"A lot happened while you were recovering," Martha's voice was gentle, but still Kate felt the need to look away.

She hung her head and covered the hand upon her forearm with her own while she fought to find the words; knowing she needed to apologise, not only to his family, but to Castle himself for the pain she'd caused them. They'd barely touched the surface of that summer, and her deception, and there was so much he deserved to hear.

"I didn't handle anything that happened that day, or the days and weeks that followed, very well. I know he needs an explanation, you all deserve an explanation, and I wish I could say something that makes sense... I just, I ran. Everything was shifting and I couldn't hold myself together, Martha. I am so sorry for the pain that I caused him."

"Have you told him how you feel?"

"I'm getting there."

Martha trapped Kate's hand between both of hers, her grip almost painfully tight.

"Even when you were not here, he fought for you – day in and day out." The fervour in her voice and the look of absolute steel in her eyes held Kate transfixed.

The time they'd spent apart after her shooting still haunted her and she couldn't shake the feeling that Martha was telling her something crucial to understanding how that time affected him. As much as she wanted to ask, she feared knowing, and the increasing knot of tension in her belly forced her to silence. She stared mutely at Martha, both willing her to continue and wanting desperately to escape.

Martha's voice quivered with the strength of her feeling, "He's had to make choices that he should never have been asked to make. But make them he did, and I am so very proud of him for it."

Kate's face creased in confusion, "Choices about what?"

"That is what needs to be discussed – and discussed now – before it creates a wall around you that neither one of you can get past."

Kate felt her skin prickle with heat and a sickening weight settle in her stomach. She could hardly hear her own voice over the roar of blood in her ears and she flattened her palm against the table to steady herself.

"What are you saying, Martha?"

"Darling, I will be upstairs for the rest of the evening, you and Richard need to talk; and I mean talk and_ listen _to what each other has to say," Martha was almost shaking as she continued, "He will be extraordinarily angry with me for speaking of this but I love that boy, and I will not see him hurt again," she finished passionately.

Shocked, Kate blinked against the blackness that threatened her vision and she tried to find the meaning behind her warnings, "Why would...? Hurt again how?"

Martha's hands ran along Kate's arm, and the contact helped her focus, drew her attention away from imagined threats and back to the woman in front of her.

"He knows how important he is to me," Kate said defensively, "I have no intention of hurting him."

"Kate, darling, I am not saying you do. You've both been puppets on a string and you are no more to blame than he is by the circumstances you have found yourself in. But there is a great potential for hurt while you continue to dance around the issue of where the two of you stand."

Kate was quiet for a long moment, sorting through her words and trying to make sense of the overwhelming foreboding that had settled in her limbs.

Martha said gently, "All I am asking is that you stay. Come find me if you need to talk. I know more than you would probably want me to know about your mother and about your shooting."

"Is that what this is about?" Kate asked, stunned, "I've stopped investigating her murder. I walked away from that when Rick asked me to."

Martha stared at her, compassion in her eyes, and the truth dawned on her.

"He didn't?" Kate's eyes swept to the closed door of his study and the air was forced from her lungs, "Martha, they'll kill him."

"Then go talk to him."

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i don't really have anything witty to say. They're killing me a little bit at the moment. Your feedback to all this would be appreciated.


	36. Chapter 35 Fallout

Seriously? This? ... The sense of betrayal and the broken trust and the pain so bad that you just want everyone else to hurt too and even the simple things stop making sense... it's like re-living my divorce all over again. Crazy times.

Happy for people to let me know if you pick up any mistakes. I really do try to re-read and get it tidy but i'm writing and posting, and not letting myself dwell and over-analyse this too much. The story is getting too big! and i feel like i just have to tell it and if i spend forever nitpicking i'll never get it all out.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 35- Fallout<p>

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><p>Kate sat alone at the dining table long after Martha cleared away their glasses and retreated upstairs. The lights in the kitchen and living room had been turned off, and beyond the warm glow of the fire behind her, the room was dark but for the strips of light that shone through the bookshelves from Castle's office.<p>

The room was quiet – too quiet – and above the sound of her shallow breathing and out-of-control heartbeat she could hear the steady flow of Castle's fingers across the keys of his laptop and the ever so faint rise and fall of the music he had playing softly in the background.

She knew she needed to go to him; there was no option now but to confront him. It would be better to _know_ than to sit alone with her mind conjuring tales of betrayal that only fed the sick roiling in her stomach and the clammy heat of her skin. But fear of the truth weighted her legs.

She wouldn't run from this – from him – but neither could she go to him.

Lost in her own darkness, the beam of light from across the room and the silhouette of her partner startled her.

"Kate?" His voice was heavy with concern, and it nearly broke her. She hated how badly she needed to hear him, to see him, even as she was being torn apart by his duplicity, "What's going on? Where's Mother?"

"She's gone up to bed," she replied, the words so frail as to be almost lost in the distance between.

Castle crossed the living room and dropped to his knees in front of her, reaching for her. "What happened?"

She flinched at his touch, and he froze.

From staring, unseeing, across the room, Kate looked down and found his face; in the space of a heartbeat saw it transform from loving concern to utter heartbreak.

"No, Kate," he choked on her name before gasping, a sudden desperate breath, "You need to let us talk about this."

He reached for her again, refusing to let her pull away from him, and his hands gripped tight at her knee and her waist. He stayed kneeling before her, his stomach against her knees, willing her to look at him.

"Were you going to tell me?" she asked.

"Yes. You asked for today. You told me this morning that you just wanted one day, Kate, and I would give you _all_ of my days if you asked for them," his voice broke on the words.

Kate looked away, her vision made blurry by the tears she refused to shed. "You made me feel free. You took all the pain away, Rick," the words were the barest of whispers and even in the silence he had to strain to hear her, "But you gave it all back."

"I had to keep you safe, Kate. They would have killed you."

"They tried to kill me anyway! What makes you think you can stop them?"

"I_ can_ stop them!"

"How? I don't... Castle, I can't make it all make sense."

"What did she say?" Rick asked, suddenly angry.

"That we needed to talk."

"That's all?"

"You didn't walk away when you told _me_ to, you kept investigating," she accused, her voice rising. "There are people willing to kill, again and again, to see this kept quiet and you kept going after them?" She pushed at the hand on her leg, unable to have him so close, "They took my mom, and they took Montgomery, and you're going to let them take you, too?"

"Come with me," he said forcefully, standing and then reaching to take her hands.

She tried to move away, and when he caught her hands she let her arms hang limp; a dead weight against in his grasp.

"I can't fight you, Castle."

"I'm not asking you to, but you need to fight _for _us, Kate. You need to be willing to hear what I have to say."

A strangled keening sound escaped her throat, "I don't know if I'm strong enough."

He lowered himself before her once again, kneeling on one knee, and his palm cradling the side of her face, "You're the strongest person I know, Kate."

She turned her head into him, and as she closed her eyes silent tears began to fall. "I'm not. Some days I feel like I'm coming apart from the inside."

"And yet you keep going. You don't give up. Please don't give up now, Kate. Don't give up on me. You told me you had faith in us. Have faith a little longer, Kate. Please, just let me explain it from the start."

No matter how much she doubted herself, he was right, she did have faith in him; the man who would sacrifice himself for her, the man who had seen her at her most broken and who had given everything he had to give to see her whole again.

She couldn't ever give up on him.

"I'm not running, Castle. I'm not giving up. But it was supposed to be over. We were supposed to jump in together. We can't do this with secrets. If I give you everything you can't hold something back from me."

"I never intended to. When you asked for time, I thought it was mine to give. I thought I'd have the chance to tell you."

"Then tell me."

With one hand at her side, the other still caressing her cheek, he stood up and brought her with him. Kate moved stiffly, and he stepped into her bringing her against his chest, gliding his hand through her hair to cup the back of her head.

While she didn't fight the hand that tangled in her hair she gave him only the briefest chance to hold her before she pressed her hand to his chest, pushing him away.

Accepting her plea for space he moved back, wordlessly linking their hands, before he led her across the darkened living room and into his office. He let go of her only long enough to pull a single leather chair up alongside his desk facing the black screen of his smartboard.

"Sit down," he asked her, gently.

She lowered herself into the chair, one hand at her stomach, and folded her legs up against her chest. "Where will you be?"

"I'll be right here." He reached for the remote, knelt beside her, and turned it on.

Kate watched as an image of herself filled the screen before it seemed to fragment and the board came to life; she blinked rapidly at the array of far-too-familiar images that sprang from her. She viewed it as if from a distance and she was looking at a stranger – unable to reconcile seeing herself at the centre of his murderboard.

"Shut it off," she ordered.

"Kate."

"No, shut it off. I need you to tell me. I need to hear you say it."

"Okay," he agreed, and the screen went mercifully dark.

He moved behind her, dragging over another chair, and placing himself in front of her. With his elbows resting on his knees he leaned towards her, despite the shift in her body to angle away.

She refused to look at him, her eyes tracking across the room before settling on the image of the downward-spiralling staircase mounted on his wall.

Rick's hands tangled, his fingers linking and unlinking. With palms pressed together he brought his hands to his face, fingers digging into his the sockets of his eyes before scraping down over nose and mouth. His first words were spoken into the hard edge of his fingers.

"When we first uncovered Captain Montgomery's involvement, when we found out about the depth of the conspiracy behind your mother's death, we knew it was big, but it's even bigger than we imagined, Kate. What we've uncovered since, it is still just the tip of the iceberg. It goes so much deeper. Their control extends –"

"Deeper how?" she questioned him, and he was glad to know that she was listening even if she couldn't yet look at him.

"Captain Montgomery made a deal to keep you alive."

"What deal?"

Rick sighed, "Hear me out, Kate," he begged, needing to tell the story in his own way, "He had information, something that he could use to force them to leave him and his family, and you, alone."

"What kind of information?"

"I don't know," he shook his head, sadly.

"Rick?" her tone clearly indicated her disbelief.

"I don't know, Kate. I'm telling you everything." He reached for her, wanting to feel the warmth of her under his palm, instead his hand fell to settle on the armrest of her chair. "Before he died Captain Montgomery passed that information on to someone else – someone he trusted – but he didn't get it in time. With Montgomery gone the people behind this thought they could come after you. They thought the threat of that information died with him and there was no one left to protect you.

"But they were wrong. He contacted me after you came back. He told me that he could protect you but only if you left the case alone; you had to stop digging."

"So you asked me to step away," Kate whispered, remembering their conversation.

"I did."

"But you kept digging anyway," she accused him angrily, "Even after he told you to stop! You put yourself at risk."

"No, Kate, I didn't. He calls me! And I've learnt more – not much – but more than we had before. I've spoken to him – I've _met_ with him – but I'm not investigating," he tried to explain the difference. "They were behind the conspiracy that threatened to bring down Mayor Weldon. They were the ones behind the money transfers and the attempt to get him out of office. The people who orchestrated to bring him down are somehow the same people who murdered your mom and tried to have you killed – it's all connected."

"How, Castle?"

"They control the city, Kate. They use their influence to control the balance of power."

"Why Weldon?"

"Because he's a good man, and he couldn't be bought. Because with him gone they thought I would be gone too."

"You?"

"In order to guarantee your safety you had to stop looking for them, they'll do anything to perpetuate their conspiracy and maintain control. Montgomery's friend couldn't approach you, but he knew I would protect you. He knew I would keep you safe."

"So you've lied to me for months; kept this from me? You didn't think that was something I needed to know? Even after what Weldon's case did to _us_?"

"I'm telling you now. But, Kate, there is very little I wouldn't do to keep you safe. You wouldn't have walked away, not then, and in the beginning you were still grieving for Montgomery, you were still walking around like you had crosshairs on your back."

"Because I thought someone was still out there waiting to kill me!" she cried.

"You were on the edge, you were barely hanging on, and this would have sent you over," The words tumbled quickly as he tried to justify his actions, "You would have gone straight at them and you know that they would not have hesitated to kill you. I didn't feel I had a choice, and I would do it again,"

"And if he comes to you again; tells you to keep something else from me?" She looked at him then, waiting to see the evidence of truth or his deception in his eyes.

"That's up to you."

"How is it up to me?"

"You have to stay away from this. This is something you have to leave to me."

"How? How can I leave you alone to fight this?" her voice broke on the word – alone – and she looked skyward, the corners of her mouth tight and trembling, "They'll kill you too."

"No, they won't," he pressed forward in his seat until his knees bumped her chair, "They reach out to me. They want us around."

"They're manipulating you!"

"Perhaps, but it works both ways. It all leads to more threads connecting."

Her eyes left his to wander to wander the room again. He watched as she swallowed, followed the bob of her throat, her open mouth as she tried to breathe through the pain, the shine of tears that she withheld from him.

Her gaze settled on the blank smartboard, "So I need to agree not to get involved, or you'll continue to keep what you learn from me?" She railed against the implied ultimatum.

"I told you, Kate, I won't risk you. But you need to trust me; if I find anything that we can use, anything that we can chase without risking our lives, you need to trust that I will tell you. Until then, this is something that I need to do."

"Who else knows about this? Ryan and Esposito?"

"No. Mother knows some of it; she was here when he called. And Alexis."

"Alexis? Rick, you can't risk her in this."

"Do you think I would? She overheard a conversation, but she knows not to talk about it. She knows what's at stake."

Rick inched his hand along the armrest until it lay against the curve of her back. She was wound tight into herself, thighs to stomach, and her chin atop her knees, and he wanted to gather her into him.

"Kate, do you understand why I did this? Do you understand that, at the time, I truly felt I had no choice? I know how desperately you want to solve your mother's murder and –"

"And what if someone else saw this? What if Alexis accidently says something?" she began, her voice rising as her body uncurled, her anger mounting, "What if they decide that instead of orchestrating your removal from the precinct it's just easier to get rid of you altogether? What then? Do I just live with the fact that I got you killed? Do _you_ live with the fact that _I _got your _daughter_ killed?"

"What's the alternative?" Rick demanded, needing to get past the recriminations.

"I feel like I'm losing myself in this! Castle, they keep reaching for me, and they're going to take you away. It's all falling apart and I don't know where to turn."

"Shhhh, Kate," he let his hand brush over her back, leaned his weight forward to whisper at her shoulder, "You can turn to me."

Kate tilted her head, her cheek to her knees; but even as she turned towards him she shut her eyes, closing him out, "I can't. It hurts."

"I know."

"No, you don't!" she shouted, and burst from the chair. She collided with his shoulder, and the force of her threw him back into his chair.

Rick stumbled to his feet, stunned by her sudden motion, and the fury and the tension in her body as she stalked back and forth across the carpet.

She whirled to face him, arms lashing out toward him, "It's not just them! It's you. And it's me. It's the fact that you had information about something so incredibly important to me and you kept it from me. It's the reality that the most important person in my life has kept me from the most important truth of my life."

"I've not kept you from the truth, Kate."

"Then it's the deceit and the betrayal!" she yelled, looking to validate her anger.

"Deceit and betrayal, Kate?" he marched toward her then, standing his ground. "Withholding truths? Really?"

She stared at him, fists clenched, chest heaving; ready to fight.

The stand-off drew out for countless heartbeats before Rick, inevitably, backed down.

"I'm sorry, let's not start apportioning blame," he said, soothingly, "I'm more than happy to take responsibility for the choices I made. I knew the risk I ran when I did this without you, but I saw no option at the time."

Her head throbbed with the rhythm of his words, forcing her to calm. The pain she saw written all over his face dragged her from her own self-righteous anger, "You _are_ still mad about what I did," she realised, sadly.

"It hurt, Kate. But I'm not mad. It don't want that to be something else that comes between us tonight, but I made the mistake of thinking we could put_ this_ off until later, and it blew up in my face. I don't want to keep trying to ignore the things we've done."

He couldn't hold back from her any longer, and he reached to trail his hand down the length of her arm. He let his fingers circle at her wrist, not yet able to bring himself to seek out her hand.

"I'm tired, Castle, I don't have the strength for more tonight."

"Then come to bed."

It sounded too easy, and she hated herself for needing him, hated that she wanted him to hold her, "I can't, not now. Or, just... not yet."

Rick hesitated, fearful of making another mistake and forcing her further away, but he couldn't let her hide, "We can get through this, we're stronger than this."

She wanted to believe him, but believing meant trusting, and trusting meant... "It might be better if I slept in the guest room tonight."

"And then what? We get up in the morning and go to work and pretend everything is okay?"

"Maybe I just need a little space?" She felt as though she were asking him, not even knowing herself what she needed, "It might be easier if I went in on my own tomorrow; you don't need to be in there."

"The hell I don't!" Rick's hand tightened around her wrist as he growled out the words. "We're partners, Kate. You don't get to walk away when things get a little rough. You talk about it. You say '_I'm hurting, but I love you, and we'll get through it'_."

She pulled her arm from his grasp and took an unsteady step backwards, "Is that what you say? Sounds like you've got it all planned out!"

She hated him even more for making it sound so casual and so easy, when she wanted desperately for it to _be_ that easy.

"You were blind-sided with this, and you're angry, and you feel like I betrayed you; I understand that. So we go to bed, and you let me hold your hand, and we talk – we talk all night if we have to – and tomorrow we go to work and we do our best to have each other's backs until we can come home and talk about it some more."

They stared at each other, until Rick took a hesitant step forward; but even that small step was too much, or too soon.

Kate stepped backwards, maintaining the distance between them, her hand splayed in warning at her side.

He took another step, backing her towards the door to his bedroom, "Please?" he begged.

"Castle," she said, her voice wavering.

"Then what do you really want, Kate?" he asked, despairing.

"I want to go back to this morning," she revealed with an anguished sigh, and her head fell forward, her shoulders slumping.

He reached out again, his hand suspended in the space between them, "We can get back there, just come to bed."

She starred at his hand, palm up, waiting, and she nodded slowly, looking up to meet his tender gaze, "We should have had today," she sobbed, the tears finally falling.

He held his arms open and closed the gap between them, "I know," he whispered.

She fell against him, her arms tight across his back, as she cried.

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i never actually wanted Kate to get all angry and fired up, but she did anyway. I really wanted them to have had that time together beforehand to connect and build enough trust so that they could talk it out... but i guess that was before Martha interfered (however well intentioned it might have been).

No idea how many people here have had to live through a deep betrayal within a relationship- to those that have i hope that this (and the next chapter) come across realistically to you.

#47Seconds tomorrow! It's gonna be a whole world of angst. ! ! !


	37. Chapter 36 Try

It's a short update. I'm sorry. Marlowe and _47 Seconds_ broke me! It's taken me until tonight to be able to write anything without wanting to curl into a ball and sob. They better fix it with The Limey!

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 36- Try<p>

* * *

><p>They moved awkwardly around his bedroom, both giving the other too much space; neither wanting to risk the tentative peace they'd brokered.<p>

Kate rummaged through her bag looking for pyjamas, and her fingers slid over the smooth fabric of the satin and lace camisole that was all that she had packed for their evenings together. She stared down at the faint trembling of her fingers, willing herself to calm, and closed her hand around the lingerie to bunch the fabric in her fist.

"Here," Castle said from beside her, passing over a neatly folded bundle; cotton shirt and boxers.

She exhaled, his gentle concern eroding another barrier, wearing her down, "Thanks," she mumbled, her eyes downcast.

She took the clothing and her toiletry bag into the ensuite to change for bed. She washed her face, and then bent to swallow greedily at the cool water. It eased the pressure in her throat but sat heavily in her belly. Gripping the edge of the vanity she let her weight fall onto her hands, and she pressed her forehead to the surface of the mirror.

She tried to focus on the blur of too-close eyes staring back at her.

What was she doing?

Slowly she backed away, letting her face come into focus, and she studied the rim of red around her eyes, the blotchy skin of her cheeks. She hardly looked like the same carefree person that she'd seen reflected in the mirror of her apartment as she packed her moisturiser and mascara earlier that evening.

But, really, what had changed?

She blinked, reached for her toothbrush, and stepped to one side of the vanity while she brushed her teeth; avoiding the reflection in the mirror.

It was less than three nights ago that she'd hidden in his bathroom astounded by the realisation that she was ready to stop holding herself back from him – from what they could be together. She'd finally given herself permission to let him love her, and she'd made him the promise that she'd follow his lead.

Would he have led them safely through this if she hadn't bullied her way through his repeated requests to slow down? If his mother, out of love for her son, hadn't felt the need to slow their headlong plummet?

He had cherished every small step along their journey, taken careful hold of every piece of her that she'd handed into his care... and it was that thought which was the most terrifying.

She'd willingly given herself to him – and she didn't regret it.

Yet she was still making him fight for her; still demanding that he prove himself; justify his motives, provide evidence of his innocence.

What more was left for him to prove?

###

Rick sat on the edge of the bed, listening to the silence in the bathroom. She'd brushed her teeth, the water had run, toilet flushed, and now there was just silence. He was close to vetoing his own decision to give her time when the door finally opened and she stepped out, not smiling, but eyes clear and, if he had to name it, thoughtful.

They passed each other silently; Kate towards the bed, and Rick towards the bathroom.

He rushed through his bedtime routine; not wanting to give her too long alone with her thoughts, at least not so close to the door with the still very real potential for flight.

But when he finished, turned off the light and re-entered the bedroom, she was curled up in his bed. Waiting.

Kate lay on the centre of one pillow, neither on the edge nor toward the middle of the bed; a carefully neutral position that couldn't be taken as distance nor need for comfort.

As he climbed in beside her she rolled onto her side, facing him, one hand curled under her chin, the other tucked across her chest. She studied him, and Rick wished he had more words, or knew the correct order to string them in to take away her pain.

Kate took in the lines around his eyes, the tight press of his lips, and imagined her own expression was just as stark in its confusion and aching need for _something_; some sign or some clue as to where to go from here.

And then she remembered his words to her as they lay together amongst the pillows and cushions in his loungeroom.

Kate unfolded the arm from over her chest and slid her hand over the mattress until she found the warm skin of his stomach. She lifted her hand to skim up the length of his torso to settle on the curve of his chest.

"What_ aren't _you afraid of anymore, Rick?"

He let out an unsteady breath, but his eyes shone with sudden hope.

"I'm not sure at the moment, the fear seeps into everything."

"No," she shook her head, "Don't start with that. You have to come back the other way."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," she promised.

"Okay," he thought for a moment, his hand running along the length of her arm to rest on her elbow, "I'm not afraid to try," he said, eventually.

Her silent encouragement spurred him on, and he drew on the memories of certainty, of rightness, that he had felt when he'd woken with her in his arms. "I'm not afraid to wait for us. I'm not afraid of talking it through, of telling you _everything_; there's no power left to hurt us in words left unsaid."

As he spoke he realised that, in truth, there was very little that he was still afraid of. His worst nightmare had been realised, and she was still there, right in front of him, giving him another chance.

His relief must have shown on his face. Kate's expression lightened, she turned her cheek briefly into the pillow, and her hand tightened and released against his chest, as if she were snuggling in even though she remained an arms-length away.

"There's nothing between us now, Kate; no secrets, no fear of things kept hidden."

He could see her absorbing his words, the reassurance that they gave her, and when her shoulders tensed he knew what was coming next.

"What are you still afraid of?" she asked.

He was still afraid she wouldn't give them the same chance, afraid that mistakes of the past would rob them of their future, but, ultimately, he was afraid that all he had to give still wouldn't enough.

"You have to say it, Castle."

"I'm afraid that the hurt is too deep... I'm afraid that I'm not enough to get us through this."

"It can't just be up to you," she disagreed.

The tone of her voice gave nothing away, and he searched her face for meaning, questioning her with a quirk of his brow.

She remained stubbornly silent.

He ran his thumb along the inside of her arm, tried to wait her out, but as her gaze became more introspective he prompted her.

"What are you still afraid of, Kate?"

She kept her eyes on his when she replied, "I'm afraid we'll keep making mistakes."

"I'm afraid we won't get the _chance_ to make more mistakes," he countered, his hand reaching her shoulder, his fingers curling around her.

The answering pressure of her fingers at his chest spurred him on.

"We both want the same thing, Kate. Can't we just try?"

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i really really need to say a huge **thank you** to the people that messaged me today to ask so very nicely where their update was! If it wasn't for the people that have reviewed this (and especially the 20-odd people that regularly review and say hi and natter along- you rock!) i would have decided Marlowe could have his angst and i'd have run for the hills looking for fluff and porny-porn or anything that wasn't THIS! Gah!

But, no, here i am. And i'm determined to get them back to the good times because i'm pretty sure i can do it more quickly than Marlowe. And it needs to happen now. NOW I TELL YOU! I want hand holding skipping through the corridors of the courthouse... or, if that's just not going to happen, i want Kate's love eyeballs back – stat!

So i will do my best to drag my broken shipper heart up off the floor and write write write. Feel free to send chocolate.


	38. Chapter 37 Let's Talk it Out

My gosh, i am so sorry this took forever! I went camping and i had imagined myself lazing around writing for hours all relaxed once the kids were in bed each night. Instead, the reality of it was me crashing, exhausted, after too-full days of swimming and body-boarding.

We should be back to a chapter every couple of days or so now until i manage to finish this baby (knock on wood).

* * *

><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 37 – Let's Talk it Out.<p>

* * *

><p>It was early when Rick woke; no hint of dawn yet visible through the bedroom windows and the loft still quiet. The air was chilly, and he pulled the blanket up to his chin before noticing the lack of warmth at his back.<p>

His stomach dropped and he rolled over, fully expecting to see the expanse of mattress beside him empty. Instead, Kate lay facing him; eyes open. The light from the city reflected off pale skin and cast highlights through the dark ribbons of her hair.

"You stayed," he said, his voice light with surprise and wonder.

Her forehead crinkled, and her eyes flicked down briefly before she met his stare. "I've never really given you much of a reason to expect that I would, have I, Castle?"

"It's not that," he disagreed, even though they both knew the truth of her statement. "I'm just glad you're here."

He laid his arm over the blanket and adjusted it around himself, propped up his pillow, hoped that he'd have a reason for making himself comfortable.

She was an arm's length away; the shadowed outline of the blanket showed her knees bent, curled around herself, but her eyes held no anger. Even with him studying her, trying to glean her thoughts from little more than the line of her jaw and the angle of her brow, she looked back; open and accepting.

It made her continued silence easier to bear. Gave him reason to hope.

Rick rested his arm in the valley between their bodies – an invitation.

"Having you here makes it easier. I'm tired of having to get through the hurt alone," he admitted, his voice low, the words coming slowly and somehow suited to the shadows. "Actually, I'm just tired of hurting. Last time... I don't know how we made it back. I spent that summer just barely managing to drag myself out of bed each day, and you..."

"And me... I don't know, Castle," she sighed. "The days just seemed to blend together – weeks of darkness – like you, I just barely managed to drag myself out of bed each day; until surviving felt like a victory. Some days I could have sworn I still felt the bullet inside my chest."

Her hand moved under the blanket, burrowing underneath the weight of his forearm. It wasn't what he wanted, it wasn't her skin on his, but it was something and it gave him the courage to wait her out.

"We haven't escaped from that," her words were laden with regret. "I think I wanted to pretend it didn't exist. I didn't want to have to confront the choices I made. I wanted to create our own little corner of the world away from it all – where those mistakes wouldn't intrude upon us – I guess it doesn't work that way."

"We might not be able to escape from it, but we don't have to let it define us either, Kate. We can move on from it. We're more than that."

He'd never felt so exposed as she studied him, her eyes flicking back and forth across his face. He had no idea what she saw, or even what she was looking for; he'd already said all he could think to say. He'd never felt his words fail him so convincingly.

"We are; we're more than that," she finally agreed. "Except... I don't know what to do now."

"What do you want to do?" he prompted her, needing her to be the one to step willingly back into the fray.

"I want us to be more, again."

"We were never any less."

She moved towards him then; her toes wedging themselves into the crevice below his knees, her arm over the blanket to lie against his. Rick adjusted his position immediately, sliding closer, tangling their legs together.

"I keep coming back to your murderboard; to my mom's case, the sniper, the conspiracy. I can't untangle myself from it. I keep trying to step away and every time I get pulled back in. It's like this presence in my life that I can't escape."

Rick rolled his arm to curl his hand around her forearm, his thumb ghosting across the soft skin below her elbow, "I never meant to drag you into it with me this time. I wanted to keep you safe from it all."

"By putting yourself there in my place?" She questioned, trying to understand. There was no heat in her voice, and the tightness around her eyes communicated her fear more clearly than the angry barbs of the night before.

"It wasn't my intention but, at the time, you and I were... we weren't in a good place, Kate. I'd bought them to your door and you nearly died, and without you here..." he sighed, not knowing how to explain the compulsion he felt to fix everything he'd done wrong. "Finding out who tried to kill you, and why, was the only thing I could think to do to make up for what I had done. And then you came back, and the case was all that we had –"

"Not all we had, Castle," she denied.

"Maybe not, but it was all that brought you back to me."

A weight settled in her belly at the resignation in his tone, his easy acceptance of her fickleness. "Do you really believe that?"

"How long would you have stayed away? How long would you have put off talking to me if it hadn't been for that?"

His words cut through her; a reminder of the pain she'd caused him, of how selfish she'd been to pull back so completely. The truth of her cowardice had her biting down on the inside of her lip.

His thumb had stopped its caress of her arm, and she tightened her own hold on him, sliding across to intertwine their fingers tightly.

"I'm sorry it took me so long to find a way back to you, and you're right, I should have found another way. You had every right to know that you meant more to me than that."

Kate was painfully aware of the fact that, even now, she was yet to put voice to the depths of her love for him. She'd wanted it to be free of darkness; wanted her declaration to be one of devotion and delight instead of pain and desperation. Yet, she couldn't see them healing whilst ever she held her heart from him.

"Can you find another way now? Will you stay away from the case?" Lost in her own thoughts, his question caught her off guard.

Could she? She wanted desperately to be able to say yes, but... "I feel like I need to know."

His eyes slid shut. "Okay," he spoke on a sigh.

"Not like that. Rick, I understand what it took for you to do this for me," she tugged at his hand, and he opened his eyes to regard her despondently. "I do, and I'm not taking that away, but what would you have me do?"

"I thought I was clear last night."

Kate couldn't keep the frustration from her voice, "You want me to agree to something I know nothing about."

"I want you to trust me," he said it so simply; as if that was all it should take.

She stared at him for a long moment, his words tumbling, nonsensical, through her mind. Was that how he found the strength to stand beside her? Was his trust so absolute?

And how could she claim to trust him and still flinch at any situation that called for a show of her belief in him?

If it meant a choice between the demons of her past and her dreams for the future there shouldn't even be a choice to make.

She was still trying to sort through her confusion when he spoke again, "Then go look at the board. I've told you everything –"

"Castle –"

"If you need to see it laid out before you can move on, if you need it reduced to dot points and timelines; it's on the board."

"Just... Castle, wait..." She rolled towards him, letting go of his hand to sit up. "No," she shook her head, still thinking. "Maybe I will – later – maybe later we can look together, but I do trust you, and I _can_ let it go."

He didn't reply immediately, and she watched his whole demeanour slowly change as he realised what she meant; felt an echo of his unbridled hope in the nervous swirl of her stomach.

"Just for now, just until –" he began.

"No; for as long as we need to. I can do this, Castle."

Rick reached for her, one hand to clasp low at her shirt, the other encircling her waist and finding skin. He pulled her down on to him, rolled onto his back and brought her to lie over his chest. Kate exhaled, more than relief but not quite a laugh, and let her own hands find purchase at shoulder and ribs; the solid expanse of his chest under her lending her strength.

"You won't be doing it alone, Kate." The determination in his voice left no room for doubt.

"I know."

They lay wrapped together; his fingers carding through her hair, her hand buried under his shirt and pressed flat against his chest; thoughts drifting, both content to find comfort in the touch of the other.

The shadows had lessened, the room slowly growing brighter as dawn approached, before Kate spoke again.

"Is it too early for breakfast?"

"No," he assured her, untangling his hand from her hair with a final caress, "You shower and I'll get something started. It's probably better we head out early anyway."

Kate slid her arm from between them to lean her weight into the mattress, lifting off him enough to see his face, "What do you mean?"

"I don't think I'm ready to speak to Mother yet today." He hadn't meant to disturb the calm they'd found, but even to his own ears his annoyance was clear.

Kate hesitated, conflicted. "I know it made things complicated, I know the timing wasn't right, but I can see why she thought she had to say something. She goes away for the week and when she comes back I'm on the doorstep, practically moving in, when she knew there was still this ticking timebomb set to go off; to hurt the people she loves."

"She should have trusted me – she should have trusted us – we should have been able to deal with this together; instead she found your greatest weakness and exploited it. I'm finding it hard to forgive her that at the moment," he said, his anguish over his mother's actions lending another dip to the rollercoaster they'd built for themselves.

"She loves you. We both know people do crazy things for those they love."

###

They were both subdued as they sipped their coffees, the tumult of emotions having left them drained and cautious with each other, despite their reaffirmations.

Kate picked at a piece of toast and Rick watched her.

"You sure you don't want something else? I can slice up some fruit if the eggs are too heavy?"

"I'm fine, Castle, I'm just not hungry. We'll get something later," she offered him a smile, appreciating his concern, "I want to head in and go through Ryan and Esposito's report from their interview with the program supervisor, and we should hear back early from the lab. It would be nice to get this one wrapped up."

"Are we going in together?"

"Did you want to hang around and have breakfast with Alexis?"

"She has that interview early this morning; she won't be around the loft for long. Besides, we'd get more done if we worked it together."

"We always do."

"Let me go finish getting ready," he stepped in close on his way past, stopped to smooth his hand over her hair and drop a gentle kiss to the top of her head. She leaned into his chest and closed her eyes at the sensation his tender affection stirred in her.

It was the first kiss he'd offered her since she'd arrived at the loft, heart bursting with joy, and the memory made her ache. She turned to look over her shoulder, watched him walk into his office and through the doorway to his bedroom, and she felt a sudden determination to be the one to bring them back to that moment.

They deserved the joy and the laughter.

She got up from the stool and gathered their plates, filled the sink to let them soak while she wiped the bench, and started more coffee. She found their travel mugs in the overhead cabinet and placed them beside the machine.

With her hands buried in the warm sudsy water she let her mind drift over the last few weeks, the last few months; the laughter, and the time they'd shared, the way he made her feel alive and the warmth in his eyes.

The cases they'd solved together, the challenges they'd faced; each of them would have meant so much less if she'd done it without him.

Without question she knew that every one of his smiles and every outpouring of love had been reflected in her own face. Even without more recent memories – his far too talented mouth, the rightness she'd felt at them finally being together, the ecstasy of their lovemaking – she was completely unwilling to accept that their inability to talk openly might have irreparably damaged their relationship.

She heard him moving about the living room, and then the quiet pad of his feet across the tiles toward her. She sat the well-washed plate on the rack to dry, gathered up her courage, and glanced over her shoulder to see him watching her from the edge of the kitchen, one eyebrow tilted and the barest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

It made her grin, knowing that even amongst everything else she could still surprise him. Her grin seemed to waken his, as if he were waiting for her permission to smile again.

He moved up behind her, his hand low on her back. "You don't have to do the dishes."

She shrugged, and reached for a towel to dry her hands. "I wanted to."

Kate turned to face him, leaned back against the bench and laid her hands on his chest before he had a chance to back away. She skirted up over the firm length of his torso, thumbs following the curve of muscle, until her fingers found purchase at the base of his neck.

"I'm not good at this, Castle. I don't know how to not push people away, even when I want nothing else but for them to be close – for _you_ to be close," she corrected, not willing to settle for vague allusions this time. "I just mean you."

Rick's hands settled at her waist, and the adoration in his eyes, the elation in his smile; it felt like benediction and forgiveness.

She stepped into him, linking her arms around his neck. "Sometimes, when you smile at me, nothing else feels important," she nuzzled at the underside of his jaw with her nose. "And maybe nothing else is."

He tilted his head to glide across the smooth skin of her cheek, drawing closer until their noses brushed together, the corners of their mouths meeting in the faintest hint of a kiss. They held steady, eyes closed, lips barely moving, breathing each other in; every caress of cheek on cheek sending a tingling warmth skittering along every nerve.

It was Kate that finally turned into him. Their mouths had barely had a chance to become reacquainted before she was opening to him, lifting up on her tiptoes to deepen the kiss. He had one hand instantly at the back of her head, cradling her, tilting her back to claim her in a fevered kiss.

They moved quickly from loving exploration to unrestrained passion, and Kate felt her need for him pool desperately, achingly fast. She pulled him to her, let her hips rock against him. His eager growl had her laughing against his mouth even as she hooked her leg around his calf.

Neither heard movement behind them until far too late.

They jolted apart, tugging at their clothes, the instant she spoke. "Grams said to give you both some space. For some reason this isn't what I assumed she meant when she said things might get heated."

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

**A/N**- Bonus points for anyone that read the title of this chapter and laughed.


	39. Chapter 38 Three in the Kitchen, etc

**Erosion**  
>Chapter 38- Three in the Kitchen, me talking, Not Porn.<p>

* * *

><p>Kate's mumbled, "Oh, god," was barely audible above Rick's overly loud, "Good morning," as he spun to face his daughter.<p>

"We were just doing the dishes," he declared, gesturing towards the sink with one hand while the other came to his mouth, his fingers pressing against his lips as he snuck a sideways glance towards Kate.

"I can see that," Alexis cocked one eyebrow, looking far from impressed as she walked straight past them and headed towards the refrigerator. "You do realise you have a room with a perfectly good door where you could do the dishes in private."

Rick was still too caught up in his relief over the fact that he was, apparently, still allowed to kiss Kate to worry too much about being _caught_ kissing Kate. He faced his daughter and said ardently, "Sometimes, making sure the dishes get done is more important than where, exactly, you're doing them."

Kate groaned in embarrassment. "Castle, you're killing us all with that analogy," she muttered, stepping around him to face his daughter where she stood leaning against the stainless steel surface of the fridge. "Alexis, I'm sorry, that was –"

"That was nothing to be sorry about," Rick interrupted.

"It won't happen again."

"It will happen again, perhaps even frequently, although, if it bothers you, we might be able to manage less tongue."

"Dad!"

"Castle!"

"What? It _will _happen again." Rick looked back and forth between the two women. "I want to kiss you in my kitchen and I want to kiss you in front of my daughter," he insisted, ignoring their combined looks of mortification. "I can see you're both going to need some time to get accustomed to this; maybe we should start small." He inched closer to Kate.

Kate sidestepped him. "You can start however you want. I'm going to go finish getting ready."

"Chicken," he teased, catching her by the hand before she could escape. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and held it there, watched while her shoulders relaxed and her head tilted sideways, before he pressed a noisy kiss to her skin.

She squeezed his fingers in reply before tugging her hand free, the flustered shake of her head softened by the not-quite-repressed twitch of her lips.

He stood in place and watched her cross the floor to his office, swept up in the tumble of emotions she could create in him and wishing they could have had a little more time – talking, kissing, even just smiling – just time to find their balance. The highs and lows of the morning had left him feeling slightly unsteady.

He continued to stare even after she'd disappeared around the corner and it took the loud clearing of a throat to turn his focus to his daughter.

Alexis stood, arms folded, her back against the fridge, looking far too much like a parent waiting for an explanation. "So?"

"So, don't you have an early meeting?"

She tutted her disappointment, whined her protest with a drawn out, "Daaaad."

"No, not this time," he stepped forward and held his arms out for a hug, tried to keep his words gentle despite his seriousness. "This is something best kept between Kate and I for the time being. Okay?"

She laid her head on his chest. "But things are going to be okay, right?"

Rick wrapped his arms around his daughter and hugged her tight; she'd always had so much faith in him. "I hope so," he whispered into her hair.

###

Leaning at the counter, Rick tried to distract himself while he waited for Kate by watching his daughter. He wasn't sure where her focus came from but her satisfied nodding and mumbled comments eventually made him snap.

He shoved her cereal bowl closer and tugged the thick bundle of printed pages out of her grasp before sliding them along the counter. "Stop already with the study. You'll knock 'em dead, sweetheart."

"I really want this one, Dad," she frowned, attempting to ignore the thud as the prospectus slid off the bench and hit the floor.

"You'll be fine. Stop worrying."

"That's what Gram said. But then she said the same thing that time I tried to learn to foxtrot on rollerblades, and we both know how that turned out."

"Yeah, well, sometimes your Gram doesn't know when to stop with the advice."

Rick turned away and busied himself at the counter pouring the coffee into the travel mugs that Kate had laid out. The familiar click of heels just as he secured the lids had him smiling. He was anxious to escape the loft and to try to find some normalcy in their routine of crime-fighting duo.

With their coffees in hand he stepped to the end of the island bench, standing next to Alexis but with eyes only for his partner. He asked, with a slight raise of his brow, if she were ready to go, and the subtle nod of her head was all the reply he needed.

Not privy to their silent communication Alexis glanced up the stairs. "I'm surprised she isn't down yet? I thought she'd have wanted to have breakfast with us. Want me to go get her?"

"That's okay, sweetheart," he forced a note of cheer into his voice. "We have to head out. We'll see you both later tonight," he assured her. With his hands full he had to forego a goodbye hug, instead he bent down and offered her his cheek.

She dutifully pecked him a goodbye kiss and turned to smile at Kate. "Have fun at work," her words included them both.

"Oh, hey, good luck with the internship today," Kate said enthusiastically.

Rick grinned, amazed that despite the soul-searching heartache and drama of their morning she still managed to think of his daughter. He opened his mouth to reply when a flash of colour at the top of the stairs caught his attention and, with his eyes drawn upwards, he missed the remainder of the conversation that continued beside him.

Martha stood looking down at the scene before her, and the two locked eyes before Rick turned away and, without comment, headed for the door. With great relief he felt Kate's presence at his back as she followed him.

He kept his eyes on his partner, waited while she took their coats from the hall closet, and reminded himself repeatedly that despite having done the wrong thing she'd done it for the right reasons.

"I can wait outside if you want to talk," Kate said quietly, the words meant only for him.

"Not necessary."

She hesitated, and he was grateful when she gave in, recognising his need to leave. She didn't bother to offer him his coat, just checked the pocket for keys, draped both garments over her arm, and held the door open for him.

He couldn't help but glance up at his mother, hovering on the landing, her expression made unreadable by too many years on the stage. He wanted to think he saw relief, and not concern, as her eyes followed them out the door.

* * *

><p>###<p>

* * *

><p><strong>AN-** um, excuse me,

It's not really the end of this chapter, but i'm pausing it here so you and i can have a little chat... PMSL! Am i allowed to do that in the middle of a story? aaaaaanyways...

I know a lot of you probably don't care about the case! *snort* but i like how, on the show, their personal relationships intertwine with their cases – and that's what seems to happen in my head too when i write. So, just cos even though it's only been a single night in my fic it's ended up being several chapters and two weeks since we touched on the investigation, and i forget this stuff, here's a recap ...

Raul Coronado was found, shot dead, in the alley beside Lee's Radiorama. Coronado had been trying to blackmail Mr Lee (who may or _may not_ be secretly building surveillance devices for the CIA ) claiming evidence that his son, Henry, who is currently on probation, was stealing cars (in case you were wondering, stealing cars would be a slight violation of said probation). Mr Lee was all "son, that's your bad gig" and wasn't interested in paying any blackmail.

They found the murder weapon from which they conveniently retrieved Henry's fingerprints, as well as so-far-unidentified skin cells.

Caskett checked out Henry, whose granny provided an alibi (but they got his jacket to check for gunshot residue) while Rysposito looked into the link between Coronado and Henry Lee by speaking to the dude overseeing their community service.

Okay... on with the story...

* * *

><p>###<p>

* * *

><p>It felt good to cross the bullpen with her, both sipping the last of their coffees, starting their morning together. Gate's office was still dark and it was too early yet for the boys to be in. Despite the fact that the precinct was far from quiet, it felt strangely intimate to be removing coats and sharing the early morning ritual of flicking through the scattering of reports that had gathered on her desk overnight. Usually she beat him in by a solid hour, or they met at the crime scene, and their morning was spent in a flurry of group activity.<p>

Leaning back in his chair he looked over the murderboard and remembered for the first time that she'd come back to the precinct without him the evening before.

"I never got a chance to ask; how did Ryan and Esposito go with the Reverend?"

"Nothing jumped. They were chasing down some names he gave them when I left. He thought he knew where Coronado had been staying though," she pulled out a report with a post-it note stuck to the corner and Castle recognised Ryan's neat handwriting. "Yeah, a hostel in the Bowery, they're going to check it out this morning."

She passed the file over for him to read, and turned her attention to her computer, accessing her emails.

A frustrated sigh a moment later had him looking up.

"Labs are back on his jacket; no evidence of him having discharged a weapon..." she mumbled, and then trailed off as something else caught her attention.

She sat taller in her seat, and Castle put down the report he was reading, "What?"

"The boys found an internet cafe Coronado was spending some time at. He had a pre-paid account and the manager has sent over a full log of his internet history already."

A few rapid clicks of her mouse had the file sent to the printer, and Castle was on his feet to retrieve it while she continued to read her emails.

He started skimming through the first page as he waited for the rest to print. "How do we tell if he uploaded photos or videos?"

"I can send it to Tech if we need to, any filesharing links?"

"Not so far." He passed over half the printed pages and took his seat to continue his own search.

After a moment Beckett opened her browser and started entering web addresses. "The kid was addicted to chat forums, there must be a dozen different sites listed here."

"Hang on, try these," Castle leaned over and placed the sheet beside her keyboard. "He was online for two hours right before he was murdered, and that's what he was looking at." He tapped the printout.

Beckett glanced down, and then up, regarding him with barely constrained humour. "Gotta Hump 'Em? It's porn, Castle."

"Not all of it; look at the video titles."

She looked again. "What about them?"

"What do you see?"

She propped her chin on her palm and angled in toward him. "You just want me to read them out loud."

He mirrored her position, leaning close, thankful for her willingness to play with him. "Yeah, I really do."

She placed two fingers on the page and drew it closer, spoke low and deliberately sexy, drawing out the words as she read down the list, "Hard Ride, Sixty-Second Threesome, Hot Cobra Done Right," she quirked her eyebrow at him but kept reading. "Rapide Seduction."

"Hmmmm," Castle hummed,

She sat up. "Rapide Seduction... Really? That's what does it for you?"

Castle placed his fingers next to hers, gently nudged them out of the way and tapped at the web address. "The Rapide is a car."

Beckett's eyes widened. "Really? Do you think...?" She turned to her computer and quickly typed in the first site address.

They both waited for the page to load, the little circle spinning in an endless loop while the video buffered. Beckett clicked the play arrow as soon as it appeared.

The video was jumpy, clearly filmed using someone's phone or a low quality camera, two young men sliding over the bonnets of cars outside what looked like a bar, while a group of friends cheered them on.

"It's not porn," Beckett said unnecessarily.

"No, it's even better; that's Henry Lee."

###

As soon as they entered the precinct Ryan and Esposito gathered in front of the murderboard.

"We might have a lead on who was shaking down Coronado for cash," Esposito said, clipping a sketch to the board, "Goes by the name of Eagle, runs a pool hall where Coronado was apparently working a few hours each night in exchange for a place to stay. He bailed out of there a week ago and Eagle has been looking for him since."

"Did one of the sketch artists do that?" Beckett asked, studying the almost photograph quality black and white drawing.

"Nah, that's street art at its finest. Kid we were talking to just whipped out his pencil and drew it. Craziest thing I ever saw."

"We get an address or some way of tracking him down?"

"An address, but nothing other than the alias; we'll take a run out there and canvas the neighbourhood shortly. But we got a call from a detective over at the fifth; he's got something for us and he's on his way over."

"He say what he had?" Beckett asked, intrigued.

"Nah. Just said to hold off pushing on Henry Lee until he got here."

"Well, we found what Coronado was blackmailing the Lees with," Castle handed over several printed screenshots from the videos, "That's Henry and several buddies helping themselves to some rather nice rides."

"So he _was_ still stealing cars," Esposito glanced through the images before passing them on to Ryan who arranged them on the board below their sketch, "Who wants to bet he tried his blackmail scheme on each of those guys, too."

"Detective Esposito," Captain Gates' voice rang out across the room, and all four looked over to see her standing at the door of her office, her gaze even more stern than usual. "You have a phone call from Captain Dowling at the fifth precinct."

As Esposito strode to his desk to take the call, the other three team members divided their attention between him and Gates, who was crossing the room to join their group at the murderboard.

She crossed her arms over her chest and said solemnly, "You might want to get ready to head out. It appears our investigation has crossed into an open case that the detectives from the fifth were covering. There was an incident this morning."

###


	40. Chapter 39 Closure

Once again I am rushing to finish so I can just post and go to bed! I realise i should probably leave it and re-read it in the morning, and if i did that it would, no doubt, be better! But this story is HUGE! And if i leave it til tomorrow i'll just tweak at it and essentially get nowhere. I've given up on this being wordsmithy! I just want to tell the story that's in my head.

Feel free to let me know if you spot anything decidedly wrong! Or have any opinion about anything Castle related at all really. ;)

If I hadn't spent all my writing time yesterday reading i might be further along. Despite my promise to stick with reading short, complete, one-shots until Erosion was finished i stumbled on Kate Christie's story Enlightenment. If you haven't read it do yourselves a favour and go read it! But read this first! ;)

* * *

><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 39- Closure<p>

* * *

><p>Beckett presented her badge to the officer manning the police tape and the pair made their way past the row of squad cars and down the narrow stairs. The red-painted brickwork was covered with posters advertising live music, cheap drinks, and naked girls and, as they descended, the smell of cigarettes, booze, and something worse became almost overpowering.<p>

Below them two paramedics waited for a clear path up the stairs, a gurney balanced between them. Beckett immediately recognised their patient.

"He going to be alright?" she asked them, noting the splinted arm, swollen eye, and the mottled bruising that covered his otherwise pallid skin.

"He's in and out of consciousness. Possible swelling around the brain is a concern, but we think he'll recover fine."

"Okay, thanks," Beckett nodded, and moved to let them through, looking beyond the narrow ante-room and into the bar.

One man lay dead in the centre of the room, tables and chairs upturned around him. Perlmutter and a plain clothes detective knelt over the body, and Castle and Beckett gave him a wide berth, looking instead towards the officers gathered in the corner.

Even without recognising him Beckett knew the seated man currently being treated by a paramedic was a fellow officer and she looked back at her partner, nodding towards the group.

Every one of them looked up at their approach; uninvited guests crashing a party.

"I'm Detective Beckett, from the 12th, this is Richard Castle," she introduced them, stepping into the circle and leaving a space for her partner to stand beside her. "What happened here?"

It was the injured officer who answered. "We were working on trying to get a lead in on a group that were stealing cars, and then trucking them out of state."

It was a familiar story and Beckett wasn't surprised. "You were undercover?"

"Yeah, only been in for a couple of weeks."

He pressed his hand over the newly applied plaster above his temple and nodded his thanks to the paramedic, who swiped along his hairline with a cotton pad removing the worst of the blood from the side of his face. "Give us a sec?" he asked his teammates, and all but one of the officers wandered off to busy themselves around the room.

They waited until, with the help of his partner, the young officer regained his feet. His torn shirt showed evidence of a wide bloodstained tear that looked suspiciously like a knife wound, and Beckett hoped their investigation hadn't been what triggered the attack.

"They found out you were a cop?" Castle asked.

A flash of regret shadowed his face, had him dropping his gaze. "No. But they knew something was going on. They thought it was Henry Lee."

"He was an informant?"

"Yeah, more than that, he was working to shut down the ring. It was part of the terms of his probation."

"You know he's a suspect in a murder investigation?"

He shook his head, wincing at the movement before speaking. "Wasn't him."

"We have his fingerprints on the murder weapon –"

"Wasn't him. He was working a job with me. He would have barely had time to get back to his uncle's shop for his shift."

Beckett frowned. "His grandmother said he was having breakfast with her."

He didn't try to move this time, but the tightening of his mouth indicated they were wrong. "His grandmother is used to covering for him. But he was with me."

"The murder victim, Raul Coronado, was he on your radar at all?"

"Nah, not until two days ago. Henry didn't say anything until you showed up yesterday but it looks like Raul was putting pressure on a few of the gang members. I can pass on names, but I didn't even know about the blackmail until too late."

"Who's the dead guy?" Castle asked, looking over to where the M.E. was zipping him into a bodybag.

"Micky Hu, seventeen years old, started stealing cars 'cause his little sister needed braces."

###

Beckett's cell phone beeped the minute they stepped up onto the sidewalk, and she placed a hand on Castle's arm to get his attention while she dug her phone out of her coat pocket.

The moved together to the wall of the building and Castle peered over her shoulder at the screen; one missed call and a message from Ryan.

**We got DNA. Call me.**

"Finally," she muttered, and hit the call button with her thumb.

The partners exchanged hopeful smiles and then leaned shoulder-to-shoulder against the wall, the phone between them, while they waited for their colleague to answer.

"Hey Ryan, what have you got?"

"Lanie called." There was a squeak of his chair and then rapid keystrokes in the background. "No match for the DNA in the system, but genome typing suggests we're looking for a female of Asian descent. So, I took another look at some of the video surveillance. I don't know how much help it's going to be, I can't get a good look at either of their faces, but there were two women in the vicinity that could be potential suspects.'

Beckett groaned and rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, one of them is a tiny, harmless looking old woman."

"Yeah. You know her?"

"Can you send a copy of the image to my phone? And then see what else you can find in the system on Henry Lee's grandmother."

"The grandmother?" Castle said, voice squeaking in surprise. "Seriously?"

###

"We get a warrant through?" Beckett asked, finding Ryan and Esposito waiting for them as soon as they'd cleared the elevator.

The four of them strode along the corridor, exchanging files and tight-lipped smiles.

"Yeah, we got officers on their way over there already to see if they can find the clothes and gloves she was wearing."

Beckett looked briefly at the copy of the warrant, and then flicked past it to see what else they'd assembled. "And is she still at the hospital with her grandson?"

"We've got the nurses making her comfortable. No reason for her to leave anytime soon."

Neither Beckett nor Castle bothered to remove their coats. They huddled around the murderboard, eyes moving quickly over their newly re-arranged evidence now that the focus of their investigation had shifted.

Beckett's gaze lingered on the A4 image of their victim taken at the crime-scene. Raul had no family mourning his death, no one waiting to understand the whys and hows of his murder, and yet the need she felt to gather the pieces together, to offer him the truth, was no less insistent.

Leaning back against her desk, she looked reluctantly to the newly clipped photograph at the top corner of the board. There would be very little good come out of her arrest, and Beckett couldn't help but wish the truth had been somehow different.

"And we've got nothing at all in the system for her?" she asked finally.

"Nada. Immigrated fifty years ago. No previous employment history but she runs a few classes at a local community college; looks like volunteer work. Never applied for a driver's licence, so we don't even have any traffic violations. Her husband passed away fifteen years ago, neither of her sons has a criminal history. She vouched for Henry and took custody when he came out of juvie. She's like a regular little old granny."

"Yeah, hiding in the bushes with a thirty eight special," Castle added, tapping the grainy surveillance photo of her leaving the alley.

"There is that," Espo agreed, looking almost impressed.

"How'd she know where to find him?"

"We think she might have been monitoring her grandson's emails. There was a message sent from Henry's account to Coronado about meeting at the shop that morning." Ryan took the file back from his boss and shuffled through to find the relevant printout. "Sent at 6:13 yesterday morning."

"And according to the statement we got from Officer Kade, he had Henry with him from 2:00 a.m. until our time of death," Beckett nodded slowly, letting the pieces come together.

Castle reached over and took the file from Ryan, skimming quickly through the email conversation that spanned the previous week. "Whoever wrote this last message didn't write the previous two replies; syntax is different."

Beckett stood up, and Castle tilted the file so she could read the email for herself.

"One step ahead of you," Espo quirked a brow and took back the page with a flourish. "They're bringing in Henry's computer but I'm willing to bet granny saw the videos."

"Yeah, and then rather than talk to Henry she took it upon herself to solve the problem for him."

###

Beckett leaned heavily, the side of her face supported by the curve of her hand, and tried to work her way down the page; checking boxes and noting attachments.

The arrest, the confession; neither left her with any peace.

They'd found their suspect by her grandson's side, fussing over him as he lay in his hospital bed. She'd stood tall for all of her five feet of height; love and steely determination in every movement, clearly having found a strength of purpose within her own twisted logic of family and sacrifice.

As Henry's innocence was revealed the once-proud matriarch had folded in upon herself, and Kate had watched the strength seep from her.

It wasn't the first time the detective had had to make an arrest that saddened her, and Kate managed not to dwell on the haunted sorrow on the elderly woman's face as she was shuffled out the door, looking back over her shoulder.

It was Henry's face that wouldn't let her rest; his confusion, the burst of anger that came before the choking sobs, the blank hopelessness as the woman that had raised him, stood by him, was led away in handcuffs.

"You okay?" Castle asked softly, bringing her from her reverie.

Without lifting her head from her palm she turned to face him, her fingers curling under her chin.

"I just keep thinking how different things could have been if the detectives running the operation had let him talk, if he'd been allowed to tell his father and his grandmother what he was doing. He may have been able to mend things with his dad, his grandmother wouldn't have taken it upon herself to gun down a man in cold blood, Raul would still be alive..."

Castle understood exactly where her thoughts had taken her. "Or if, instead of assuming the worst, she'd spoken to Henry, given him a chance to explain."

"So many chances for someone to have made a different decision," Kate sighed, pressed the heel of her hand into her eyes, let her fingers rub down over her face before sitting up. "Did you need to go back to the loft... talk things through with Martha?"

Castle didn't answer immediately, and they sat together in a silent give and take of support. "I shouldn't leave it," he said, resignedly. "I don't want it to fester."

"Did you want me to come with you?"

"I do. But it might be easier if it's just Mother and I. You'll come over after though, right? We can all have a late dinner together?"

"Would you mind..." Kate sucked in a lungful of air, nudged her chair closer to avoid being overhead. "The last week has been full on and I'm tired. I don't know if I can do another family dinner tonight."

A wave of despair rolled over him, and he knew he shouldn't be surprised. "You want some time alone." It wasn't a question.

"Would that be okay?"

"Sure, I understand." He nodded and tried to keep his face neutral, telling himself she wasn't pulling away, she just needed space to deal with it in her own way.

"I don't want to take you away from Alexis. I know she had that interview this morning and she probably wants to tell you all about it."

"Take me away?"

She dropped her voice to little more than a whisper. "If we stayed at my place."

"You want me to come home with you?"

Kate glanced down at her hands where they fidgeted in her lap. Even beyond her desire to avoid potentially heavy familial conversations she didn't want to sleep in the shadow of his murderboard. She needed the freedom they'd found tangled together in her bed.

When she looked back up at him her eyes appeared overly bright, shimmering with moisture. "I just want you to myself tonight, Castle."

Rick felt a sudden tightening in his chest. His hand reached to cover hers and he had to fight the instinct to drag her into his arms. "Anything you need, Kate."

She sighed in relief, her eyes closing briefly, only to focus on their joined hands when they re-opened. She didn't want to know if there were curious eyes on them; there was nothing wrong with accepting support from a friend, from her partner, after a troubling case. Still, there was no reason to create a scene. Pushing back in her chair she slipped her hand out from under his, peeked sideways at him with a shy smile. When the smile morphed into a yawn she hastily covered her mouth before slumping back in her chair as they shared a laugh.

"Not a lot of sleep the last few nights," Castle sympathised.

Beckett saw the change in his expression the moment he moved past the reason for their lack of sleep last night, to the far more enjoyable reasons of the night before.

"No, not a lot of sleep, but I'm not going to complain about any of it. It was a long time coming."

"It was," he agreed, able to accept the bad simply because of the good that had come with it. "I'll text Alexis; let her know our plans."

"Thank you." The almost-silent whisper floated between them.

Rick didn't want to leave the bubble they'd created. He resisted until Kate looked pointedly at his phone, and then he made do with a quickly tapped out message to his daughter. He debated checking to see if his mother was home before deciding he'd rather leave that conversation for just a little bit longer.

He sat the device on the desk in front of him while he waited for a reply, turned his attention back to his partner. The shadows under her eyes were far too pronounced and Rick hoped they'd done enough picking at their wounds for tonight to offer them a chance at starting to heal.

The chime of his phone forced him to look away, and he wondered self-consciously how long he'd sat gawking at her. He usually tried to keep his mooning stares under better control, or Beckett, at least, reminded him to quit it. As he collected his phone, he adjusted his position in his seat and risked a glance across the room to where Ryan and Esposito sat; promises of two days off clearly enough to have them eagerly tidying their own case notes and paying no attention to anything else.

"Alexis says she's just finished at Cerise Rouge," Castle reported, having read the girl's message.

"Tell her to call past."

"Really?"

Kate shrugged. "You can share a cab home."

"But you've still got things to finish up here."

"As helpful as it is to have you sit beside me and daydream I think I'll be fine to tidy this one up."

He huffed at her teasing before thinking of something he could do to help. "How about I take care of the board?"

"Fine. But I'm okay with you heading out. It would make me feel less guilty about holding you captive at my place tomorrow if you spent some time with Alexis this afternoon."

"I like your logic." He couldn't stop smiling as he typed out his reply.

By the time he pocketed his phone she'd turned back to the scattering of files on her desk. Even with her blessing he felt like he was skipping out on her. He slid the file box from under her desk that already contained their initial witness statements, and crossed to the murderboard. He methodically took down each photo, removed the magnetic clips, and arranged them in the box.

He took the eraser from the tray and looked over his shoulder, checking first to make sure it was okay. Sometimes clearing away the board helped her to find closure, especially when the case didn't end the way she may have wanted, and he didn't want to take that from her.

Beckett nodded once, sat her pen on the desk, and watched as he wiped away the story of Raul Coronado, Henry Lee, and his family. When the board was blank Castle wheeled it to sit along the wall. Ready for next time.

There wasn't much else to be done, but he could make sure she didn't go hungry.

Leaving the board, he walked behind her, had her attention even before he rested his hand at the back of her chair. "Alexis is bringing cookies, I'm going to go make you a coffee before I head out."

The offer of coffee hardly merited the softening of her eyes or the way she smiled up at him. He said of prayer of thanks to whatever force had been responsible for this amazing woman giving him a second chance. He stole a fleeting caress of his thumb over her spine before retreating to the break room.

Kate felt buffered by his presence, and knew without a doubt that the gathering tensions of the day had been made manageable solely by the fact that he was beside her. She'd always thought her therapy sessions left her feeling drained but the malaise that dragged at her now was a whole new level of emotional exhaustion.

Only the hope that, once she left this evening, they'd have two full days to find themselves again, kept her collating statements and arranging evidence for the D.A.

Long minutes later, the smell of freshly brewed espressos made her look up to see him crossing slowly from the break room, gripping four mugs by their handles. He deposited all four in front of her, and they were immediately joined by Ryan and Esposito; their coffee detection skills finely honed.

"Thanks, man," Ryan said, raising his mug in a gesture of cheers.

Kate stood up to gather with her colleagues in an unspoken agreement to take a break. A chorus of sighs followed as they all sipped at their coffees.

"Is it just me, or has this been the longest week ever?" Ryan asked.

"Not just you," Beckett assured him.

She felt Castle shift behind her, the side of his arm brushing against her back. For a fleeting moment she found herself leaning into him before she stiffened, unable to stop the flicker of fear that came with it, knowing Javi was too adept at reading her and not wanting to appear as vulnerable as she felt.

But he kept moving, his warmth shifting past her shoulder, stepping closer to Ryan as if that had always been his intention. "You and Jenny have any plans?" he asked.

"Nah, she had the weekend off. I'll get home in time for dinner and a movie though. I might even pick up a bottle of wine on the way home." He smiled at the thought, his joy at spending a quiet evening with his wife clearly evident. "What about you?"

"An evening at home with my girl, too," Castle grinned, sipping at his coffee.

"Your girl?" Esposito inquired, his smile far too broad to be innocent.

"And here she is now." Castle raised his hand in a wave and the three detectives looked through the partitions towards the elevator.

Alexis walked towards them, shopping bags dangling from both hands, a bounce in her step.

"Perfect timing." Castle moved away from the group slightly to greet her.

The young woman smiled warmly at each of the detectives, no longer as shy in their presence as she once was. "As requested, I brought cookies."

Esposito looked optimistic. "To share?"

"Of course." She held up one hand, and Castle didn't waste any time digging into the bag to remove the candy-striped box.

Kate cleared a corner of her desk to make room for it and, after snagging a choc-fudge cookie for herself, she left Ryan and Esposito to fight over who got what.

She joined Castle and his daughter in time to hear the writer ask, "So, how'd it go this morning?"

Alexis was all smiles. "That's why I was at Cerise Rouge; Paige and I went to celebrate, after doing a little shopping of course." She jiggled the remaining bags and tilted her head charmingly.

Castle was obviously accustomed to her methods and he winced, "Do I even want to know?"

"I needed office attire," she explained, "Some of the women wore these amazing suits with –"

"Ergh, I'm convinced already," he teased, and then wrapped an arm proudly around her shoulders. "When do you start?"

"Not until next Monday, but I have some reading to do in the mean time that I'm looking forward to."

"It sounds thrilling," Castle deadpanned, and Alexis rolled her eyes at him, turning pleading eyes instead to Kate.

"Don't listen to him, it sounds exciting," Beckett assured her, earning a smile. "I'm sure you'll love it."

"Hey, Alexis," Espo called out around his mouthful. "These are great, thanks."

Ryan nodded in agreement; his mouth too full to speak, a cookie in one hand, coffee in the other.

Beckett shook her head, embarrassed on their behalf. "Sorry, clearly it's feeding time at the zoo."

Alexis didn't seem bothered, laughing at their obvious enjoyment before turning back to Kate. "Dad said you closed your case today. Did it work out okay for the kid? Was it his father?"

"No, it wasn't his father," she replied, and then paused, unsure what else to say.

Castle took over for her. "It got a little messy but it turns out the kid was on the right path. The detectives are going to intercede on his behalf with his father and hopefully they can repair the damage to their relationship."

"I hope so," Alexis said sympathetically.

"Well," Castle said slowly, "I suppose we'll be heading off."

His reluctance to leave was obvious, and for a moment Kate selfishly wished Alexis wasn't with them so she could at least ride down in the elevator with him.

"I'll get back to the paperwork, then, I suppose," Beckett kept her voice light knowing she was almost done, and focused on the thought of relaxing in the bath or lazing on the couch, both preferably with Castle. "Have a nice night, Alexis. We'll have to plan a fashion show at some point and you can show me what you bought."

"You're not coming over tonight?" Alexis asked, her surprise making her voice more piercing than usual.

Castle cleared his throat noisily, and stepped them away with his hand at Alexis' back. Kate followed at his side, and she had to clench her jaw to stop from turning around, knowing there was no way Ryan and Espo had missed the exchange.

The munching of cookies had stopped.

Ryan swallowed hastily, and started talking even before his mouth was empty. "Are they...?"

"What, bro?" Esposito asked, leaning back on his boss's desk, folding his arms, and taking a deliberately nonchalant bite of cookie.

Ryan didn't look away from the threesome huddled at the edge of the walkway, "Castle and Beckett... are they...?"

"What, they didn't tell you?" Esposito's look of surprise quickly changed to pity, and he shook his head, face twisted dramatically in sympathy. "That's harsh, bro."

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N**- I think the next chapter is gonna end up M, (at least we can hope it will) so i'll try to write two versions if i get time.

Leave me a review! And don't forget to go read www. fanfiction. net/s/7785876/1/Enlightenment (remove the spaces) and leave her a review too! Cos that's what motivates us to keep writing for you. Otherwise we'd all just read fic, and if everyone just read it there would be no one to write it, so essentially we'd be stuck with the angst of The Limey with no escape! and that would suck! and the solution to suckage is one review! It's all up to you, doods. Don't let me down...


	41. Chapter 40 Everything

I did my best to keep this T (i think it's T!) because there was talking stuff that had to happen and i didn't want to lose it in an M chapter. But, Lovers-of-Sexytimes, never fear! I'll write you next.

Joint bemoaning on Twitter re the need for our chapters to write themselves led to Caffinate-me (without having read this story!) helping with this suggestion for this chapter-  
><em>"Dear My-Writer, the angstyness is over. Everything is awesomesauce loveballs. We are only Casketty goodness now. xoxo Chapter"<em>

I thought i'd add a few extra words, just to flesh it out, but that's pretty much the gist of it.

Thanks, Deb, for the thoughts and the blah-blah.

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><p><strong>Erosion<strong>  
>Chapter 40- Everything<p>

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><p>Kate poured herself a glass of wine. She left the bottle on the counter for later and held the glass up to her nose. Closing her eyes, she let the silence settle over her before taking a sip.<p>

It felt good to be home; to have a moment to gather the pieces of herself back together and to look at the changes. She felt oddly whole considering the tumult of the last several days, and she could only put it down to the new certainty she felt.

The what-ifs and maybes that had always shadowed her, made her afraid of taking a chance, had been made obsolete. He'd proven to her, and she to him, once and for all, that their relationship was strong enough to survive, and flexible enough to allow them to be the people they needed to be – both at home and at work.

She collected her phone from the corner of the countertop and tapped out a text as she headed back towards the bathroom.

**I don't feel like cooking. Bring Chinese?**

The tub was already half-full. The scented bubbles and warm steamy air combining with the wine to soothe her. Kate placed her glass and her phone on the ledge beside the bath and stripped out of the day's clothes.

Her phone beeped a reply just as she was stepping into the water, and she ignored it for the moment. Instead, she let herself sink into the hot water with a long sigh, and then lean back against the rim of the tub, eyes closed, just enjoying the moment of peace.

Before she could get too relaxed she flipped off the faucet and checked Castle's reply.

** Can do. I'm still at the loft. Is an hour okay?**

Kate pondered possible replies. She didn't want to interfere, but she hoped the delay was because he was spending the time with Alexis, and not that his discussion with Martha had gone badly. With a little space she now found it easier to forgive her for her interference, knowing it was done out of love for her son, and she wondered if maybe it was better to just let it drop. She had the greatest affection for his family and didn't want to be seen to be coming between them, or to create any discomfort within her own relationship with the older woman.

** Did everything go okay?**

She asked in the end, deciding it was non-confrontational enough that he would feel no pressure to reply if the timing was bad.

Kate swapped her phone for her glass of wine and, after taking a large mouthful, she lay back. It was nice, she decided, this time alone whilst knowing that he was on his way. She didn't even mind the interrupting beep of her phone.

** Everything is fine. I'll fill you in tonight. Are you at home yet?**

** I'm having a bath, enjoying a glass of wine, waiting for my dinner.**

She smiled as she replaced the phone on the ledge. She loved that, even at a distance, she could tease him. She sunk further into the bubbles, letting them gather around her chin. She barely had time to rest her head back against the rim before his reply came through.

**Why, Detective Beckett, are you texting while naked? I think they have a word for that.**

**If you were here I'm sure we could come up with all kinds of words together.**

**Hold that thought...**

She chuckled, took another mouthful of wine, and laid back, eyes closed, to let the tension of the day seep from her skin. Looking forward to the rest of her evening, her smile never faltered.

###

Shifting his weight back and forth on his feet, Rick raised his hand to knock, and then thought better of it. He dug his phone out of his coat and sent a text instead:

**I may not have planned this very well.**

The reply was almost instantaneous.

**Planned what?**

**Your last text was entirely too distracting.**

And it had been. As much as he loved the parade of new outfits that his credit card had valiantly provided he was looking forward to a whole other kind of fashion appreciation. He had made his escape with hugs and promises to hear all about the projects Alexis was slated to assist with for her new internship.

Tomorrow.

He had places he needed to be.

His phone rang in his hand, and he answered it with a sheepish, "Hello."

"What's wrong, Castle?" There was no concern in her voice, only puzzlement.

"I'm at your door."

"I thought you were stopping for takeout?"

"I couldn't hang around for twenty minutes waiting for takeout when I knew you were in the bath; all naked and wet. I thought I'd surprise you."

Her soft laugh tinkled through the phone. "Surprise me? With a phone call from my front door?"

"Yeah, I forgot that I wouldn't be able to get in."

"I suppose now I have to get out? Come let you in?"

He could hear the smile in her voice, and he wanted to be already inside with her, wanted to see her sparkling eyes for himself.

"Then you won't be in the bath," he pouted.

"And you like the idea of me in the bath?

"I like the idea of me in the bath with you even more."

"Mmmmm. My bath isn't that big. I'm not sure how we'd fit." The lilt to her voice made it a game, daring him to come up with a plan.

Rick leaned his shoulder against the wall, smiling at the image. "I'm sure we could make it work. You could lean against my chest. I could give you a sponge bath. Rub lotion into your skin."

"Hmmmm. That could work. But what if I wanted _you_ to lean back against _my_ chest? What if I wanted to rub lotion into your skin?"

"Do you have lotion befitting a ruggedly handsome, and manly writer?"

The door opened, revealing Kate in a long satin gown, her hair twisted in a rough knot at the top of her head. "You don't want to smell like me?" she asked, still talking into her phone.

Numerous replies flittered through his mind, but Rick's attention was far too focused on the expanse of flushed skin visible at the gaping neckline of her robe, the damp tendrils of hair along the side of her face, the hint of moisture in the valley of her throat.

For an aching moment he stood, rooted in place, before her hand on his arm released him. And he remembered he didn't have to resist her any longer; he could untie the sash at her waist, kiss along her goose-bumped skin, hold her tight against him.

He hung up the phone, stuffed it distractedly into the pocket of his coat and stepped toward her, his hand coming to rest on the curve of her hip. "I really didn't mean to interrupt your bath."

Kate shut the door behind him and turned into the haven of his body, rising up on her tiptoes to whisper against his jaw. "You didn't. I was only waiting for you."

Letting her hand move up his arm, feeling the definition of muscle under the fabric of his coat, she felt her eyes drift shut.

Having him here, at the door, made her breathless. She might only have been home for an hour, but her imagination kept her returning to this moment from the instant she'd stepped inside her front door and unclipped her badge and her gun. She'd felt alive with it – the anticipation – knowing that they were done with everything else, and that when he crossed her threshold there was nothing between them. Nothing but partners, and always – a clean slate, a new page.

He angled his head to press into her, cheeks sliding, the flicker of eyelashes tickling at his temple. "I missed you," he said throatily, his hands spanning her hips, steadying her.

"I didn't go anywhere," she murmured into his skin, rasping her bottom lip up over the slight stubble at his chin.

Kate let the crook of her arm drape over his neck, allowing her weight to fall on him; enjoying the sensation of him being just that bit taller, him leaning down, his body spanning hers.

"No, but for just a little while the wall came back up," he said seriously, his voice tight with the echoes of his fear and so much love.

She breathed in deeply, filling herself with the scent of him. "There's no wall now," she whispered, and when his arms came fully around her, fingers skimming across the smooth satin covered curve at the very base of her spine, the air left her lungs in gasp.

Rick squeezed her tight against him, and her body betrayed her, arching into him, soft curves melding to the firm breadth of his chest as an insistent throb of pleasure ran through them both.

He leaned back, just enough to run his eyes over her face while his fingers kneaded the ridge of her spine, working up and down, frictionless against the smooth satin between them. He studied her, finding her open to him, eyes dark, the necessary shield that she wore at work replaced by the smoky warmth he wanted to see so much more of.

With a growl she closed the distance, bringing her mouth to his in a sudden kiss. Hot and wet and hard. Her tongue stroked against his, twisting to flick against the underside, curling around him and then delving deeper into his mouth.

Her phone joined his in the pocket of his coat, and then her hands were on him; smoothing over his shoulder, and stroking her way up his side. When she came to his clavicle her thumb found the hollow at the base of his throat and she pushed the collar of his shirt aside, dipping her fingers below the line of fabric and skimming around to clutch at the back of his neck.

Pressed chest-to-chest, her much smaller frame enclosed within his arms, she felt the strength in his body; the taut line of his neck, the way her hand barely spanned from throat to nape, the ease with which he held her. For someone so accustomed to being strong her body's visceral reaction to him, to his masculinity, surprised her.

Her hand came up to skirt his jaw, thumb sliding along hard bone, feeling the rhythm and flex of his mouth as it worked hers; opening and closing together. She pressed deeper into him, tasting, wanting nothing between them.

Rick felt his breath come quickly, heat suffusing him, aroused by her responsiveness to him; the scent of her, fresh from her bath, the taste of wine on her tongue. He wanted to bury himself in her.

She clung to his neck and he held their hips together; connected from lips to thighs, and by so much more.

There was no doubt she wore nothing beneath the robe and the temptation for skin was overwhelming. His hands itched to find the peaks of her breasts that teased him through the layers of clothing, but that would mean too much space between them.

He needed her closer.

"Up," he commanded, his hands already slipping to cup her arse, making his meaning clear.

She made a noise low in her throat, part moan, part growl, and she pushed off the floor with the balls of her feet, wrapping her legs around him, her arms tightening at his neck.

Kate settled over the wide curve of his palms, his fingers digging into the tender flesh of her thighs as he supported her weight. He walked them across the hallway, and for a moment she thought he was going to press her up against the counter, take her on the cold steel of her kitchen top. A jolt of arousal flooded her veins and, when he kept going, carrying her towards her couch, she made a vow to come back to kitchen.

Next time.

The angle made it hard to find his lips, and she kissed along the side of his face. Her fingers scratched through his hair, running through the short waves until it tickled at the webbing between her fingers, and she closed her fist, tugging gently, before starting again. She focused her mouth on the curve of his ear, running her tongue along the ridge, dragging her teeth, before dipping lower to nip gently against the sensitive skin of his throat. Her legs lightened around his hips, and he responded by pulling her centre into his stomach.

He felt her shift against him, rocking hard, her arms clenching around his head and shoulders. Her hum of pleasure travelled straight from his ear to his groin, forcing his eyes shut, and he sensed his grip, along with his control, slipping.

Rick managed to stumble into the couch. He bent forward until the cushions were beneath her and then let go.

Kate slid from his waist with a gasp, falling back onto the cushions. She looked up at him; eyes glazed, hair mussed, robe pulled loose from across her chest.

"So gorgeous," he said on a breath. With his arms straight, supporting his weight on the couch either side of her, he leaned over her for another kiss.

She relaxed into the welcoming embrace of the couch, pulling him with her, encouraging his body to drape over hers with the press of her calves behind his knees.

"I ordered dinner," he panted into her mouth.

"Hmmm?" She didn't stop in her exploration, ran her tongue languidly over his teeth, let her mouth close over his upper lip, sucking gently before she pulled back just enough to ask, "Delivery?"

Rick settled a knee next to hers and, with a hand at her back, he shuffled her along the lounge. "Yeah. It'll be here in a half hour."

"Plenty of time," she replied, dismissing the thought.

She lay back, stretched herself along the length of the couch and, with a smile and the most incredibly hot come-hither look Rick had ever seen, she hooked her fingers around his belt and guided him to lie between her legs.

He surrendered briefly, rocking his hips hard into her, delighting in the breathy moans she gave him in reply. With a supreme effort in willpower he kissed her chastely at the side of her mouth, rolled slightly sideways and, with a caress, gently nudged her knee so he could lie beside her.

"Perhaps, but I don't want to rush. And when this robe comes off, I don't want it back on again."

She growled out a protest, quickly followed by a short bark of laughter as she rolled to press her front to his. Their faces were just far enough apart for her to read both apology and plea, but it was the barely held-in-check desire that convinced her.

With half-lidded eyes and her mouth turned up in a self-deprecating smile she pressed her hands to his chest. She knew the thundering beat beneath her palms matched her own. "Mmmmm, what you do to me." She breathed out steadily, her smile turning to a full-blown grin. "I want you so badly right now," she admitted.

"Are you too far gone?"

"No, but every nerve cell is tingling. Can we stay here? I don't want you to stop touching me." Her hands played over his chest, committing the feel of him to memory. She forced another steadying breath and leaned in to rest her forehead against his jaw.

Rick kissed her temple, turned his head to press his lips against her hair, unable to resist the urge to breathe her in. "I have no intention of stopping. I could lay here with you for hours, Kate, just touching you, feeling the way you respond to me." He let his hands glide over her; the thin fabric doing nothing to disguise her curves or the softness of her skin.

"Kiss me. Please," she begged, already canting her mouth towards him. "I love your mouth," she mumbled into his lips.

The minute she said it she wished she hadn't; knowing that, as much as she did love his mouth, it was so much more. It was just one thing amongst of a whole list of things that she loved about him; everything that made him who he was; her best friend, her partner, her lover.

Her need to tell him, to remove any trace of lingering doubt, was abrupt and all pervasive, and she almost couldn't catch her breath.

She stilled against him, her mind working rapidly despite the wonderfully distracting brush of his lips as they continued to move lightly across hers. She angled her face to accept the feather light kisses he dropped upon her mouth, along the side of her nose, and across her cheek. The stumbling beat of her heart now due to more than just the intoxicating press of him against her.

"Castle," his name came roughly, but it was enough to make him pause, enough to have him look at her, his eyes soft. "I haven't... I still haven't..." The words didn't tumble free like she thought they would.

Her gut twisted at the question in his eyes, and she struggled to make herself understood; stared him down, willed him to see past the soundless mouthing of her lips to the words stuck in her throat. "You know, right?" she choked out.

He waited for her, long soundless moments with his thumb sliding slowly back and forth across her cheek, hating how desperately he needed for her to tell him. He could see the pulse point at her throat pounding furiously and the unnatural stillness of her body.

"Breathe, Kate," he reminded her, and the shuddering noisy gasp of breath that answered him was hot against his face. "You don't need to say it," he told her, reassuring her with a smile.

The keening sound that escaped her throat was one of frustration and more. "No, I do. I can." Her hands tangled in his shirt. "You need to know, because I love you, Castle. So much."

She looked at him, wide-eyed and startled, as if she hadn't expected the words to come, even after so much effort. And then her body relaxed, the tension flowing from her, and she pressed a kiss to his lips.

Rick felt the catch of her breath as she held back a sob. "So much," she repeated, not breaking from her kiss.

His chest constricted almost painfully, before the pressure lifted, and he felt light, joyous, the flood of emotion escaping only in the fierceness of his kiss. He clutched her to him possessively, wanting no space between them, and holding nothing back as they moved together, open mouthed, desperate.

Kate flung her arm over him, pulling him tight against her before she broke from the kiss, a surprised bark of laughter bursting from her. "Oh, that wasn't so hard to say."

"It sounded like it was hard," he smiled, giving them both a moment of levity to catch their breaths while he bought his hand around to cup the back of her head tenderly.

"Yeah, but it's not now." Kate mirrored his position, moving her hand to cradle his head and separating herself from him just enough to look him in the eye. "I love you," she said again, before dropping her head to rest against him as she laughed into his shoulder. "I should have found a better way to tell you."

"This is perfect."

"No, it should have been about more than just this; more than sex. I should have told you before."

"I never stopped loving you, Kate. And you told me in your own way." Rick ran the flat of his hand over the back of her head, stroking. "I know it's about more than this. It's everything."

She rolled away, her hand coming again to settle over his chest. He'd never seen her look at him with such love and trust; the emotion spilling from her, unbridled smiles and shimmering eyes. "It is. You know that, too, right? This is everything?"

"It is for me," he nodded, solemnly.

She exhaled loudly. "Okay then. That's good," she said decisively, head bobbing, as if that settled the matter.

Rick let his fingers trace the curve of her smile, the round of her cheek, the crinkles at the corner of her eye; fusing the physical evidence of her love with the sound of her words. "You're getting better at this."

"Let's keep practicing," she replied, leaning in to kiss him again.

He chuckled against her. "I meant the talking," he said, taking her mouth lightly; worshipful kisses, feather-light across her open mouth.

Kate hovered against him, eyes fluttering closed. "Mmmmm. So did I. Just let me kiss you for a little while first."

She brought her tongue out to meet him, swiping the tip across his upper lip, both pausing to breathe each other's air before their mouths met fully; no less passionately in spite of the unhurried pace.

.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** this whole story has morphed into something much much larger than i intended when i started writing and i would LOVE to know what i could have done/ could do to make it better. If i extended the invitation, and asked honestly and completely willingly, for you to tell me something you DIDN'T LIKE about this whole thing so far, who's brave enough to do it?

Was the pacing off? Could i have handled the cases differently? (although, keep in mind that there are a gazillion writers here doing pure fluff and angst and i feel little need to add to that, so just saying you didn't want the cases in there at all is gonna mean less to me than if you give feedback on HOW they were incorporated). Was it too been-there-done-that? Not visual enough? Too 'surface' with the emotion? Some words too repetitive? The dual-perspective thing annoying? The flow off in some way? Characters not right? I don't know! Anything at all that grated or something i could improve upon, in your opinion, which would make for better story telling.

Have at me! Please don't do it anonymously! I'm here for the chats and the feedback and will take all critique with a grain of salt and ignore you totally if i think you suck. ;p

Kidding. I would like to improve and can't do that without honest feedback.


	42. Chapter 41 and 42 T

There is absolutely no point reading this if you've read the M version! Which can be found under the Erosion Director's Cut here www. fanfiction. net/s/7929096/2/Erosion_Directors_Cut and is really much better IMO... There are two M chapters that should be read in place of this one.

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><p><strong>Erosion<br>**Chapters 41 & 42 -

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><p>He wanted to ignore the buzzer. With her lips and tongue teasing his, the play of her hands across his back under his shirt, the gentle rock and tilt of her hips; the last thing on his mind was dinner.<p>

It seemed he'd hardly had time to forget the first ring when it was buzzing again, drawing a moan of protest from the woman beneath him, and he considered dragging himself away from her. The sooner he answered the door, the sooner the delivery guy would leave, and the sooner they could get back to... more important things.

And yet...

Her hips tilted again, in time with the rhythm of her kiss, and he couldn't think of anything else but the way they fit together.

The third, impatient, jabbing buzz finally had her pulling away. He felt keenly the loss of her hands at his back. The gentle caress as they slid around to his chest to push him away just made him want to pull her even closer.

With a reluctant sigh he stood up from the couch, bent to press a kiss to her lips. Don't go anywhere," he teased, with a tender caress of her cheek before stepping away.

Kate watched him go for a moment before draping her forearm across her face, covering her eyes. If she didn't combust right here on the couch, the evening was shaping up to surpass all expectations.

The man had staying power, she'd give him that.

She straightened her robe and sat up. Maybe now that the expected interruption of the delivery guy was over they could forget dinner and go to bed?

"Do you want a glass of wine or some water with dinner?" he asked from the kitchen.

Clearly he intended to eat.

Kate forced down her disappointment, moved on to Plan B instead. "Wine would be nice."

She waited for him on the couch; her foot resting on the coffee table, her robe opened to reveal the full length of her leg right to her hip.

He crossed the room to join her, two glasses and the bottle in one hand, the bag of takeout in the other, and a smile that said he knew _exactly_ what she was doing.

He shook his head. "You need to eat, because after this I may not let you out of bed until dinner time tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"Count on it." He placed the bag on the coffee table beside her foot, then the bottle and glasses one at a time.

She lifted one leg to run the tip of her pointed toes along the top of her shin. "Hmmmm. I might just do that. Count, I mean."

"Is that a challenge?" Rick grinned, eyes following the slow progress of her toes.

He knelt on the floor beside her, ran his hand up the underside of her calf, rotating his grip at her knee so his fingers dipped low to caress the inside of her thigh as he approached the apex of her legs.

They'd kept their explorations on the couch relatively innocent, a wordless agreement to let their desire simmer, until it was now a constant steady burn that pooled in his belly and licked fire everywhere they touched.

The subtle shift of her hips as his hand disappeared beneath her robe had him throbbing. Somehow he tore his gaze from the expanse of leg before him to look at her face. Her victorious smile had his thumb stopping at the crease of her thigh, stroking slowly across the oh-so-soft skin before retreating.

She clamped her legs closed over his hand to still his withdrawal.

Chuckling, Rick bent to kiss her knee, and then used the hand wedged between her legs to nudge her foot off the coffee table. Ignoring her frustrated grumbling he started unpacking their containers of takeout, unable to keep the smile from his face.

"Your self control is impressive." There was no censure in her tone, and the foot that came back to creep up his jean-clad thigh told him she was happy with their game.

"And you're too goal-oriented."

"Goal- oriented? Because the man I love had his hand up my gown and I know that the world's most mind-blowing orgasm could be moments away?"

He choked out a strangled growl, clutching at her knee to halt the tease of her toes as they crept up his thigh. "My self control is slipping." He looked over at her again, the rapid rise and fall of her chest making a lie of the languorous pose she had adopted. "I love it when you show me what you want, but when you tell me..."

"Makes you hot for me, right?" she smirked at him, playful and teasing.

"Can't get much hotter, Kate." He leaned his weight into the cushioned seat and tugged her legs toward him in an attempt to bring her down alongside him. "Come eat."

"How about I _tell _you some more?" She quirked an eyebrow at him, her hands busy sliding under the collar of his shirt.

"Eat something, quickly, and then you can spend all night telling me."

"Are my options of things to eat limited to food?"

He laughed deep in his chest, slapping playfully at her hands. Snagging a container of food and a pair of chopsticks, he gave up on trying to get her to join him on the floor and, instead, moved back to the couch slipping in behind her to lean against the corner cushions and pulling her back against him.

Rick adjusted their positions so she fit in between his legs, and Kate swung her feet up onto the couch, tugging the sides of her robe closed before turning her back to lean fully against his chest. With his knees bent, feet flat on the couch, he wrapped his arms around her and offered her the carton of Chinese.

"I love this side of you," he told her, nuzzling his nose behind her ear. "If I hadn't already been totally gone, and in love with you, this would have done it."

Kate flicked a nail under the tabs to open the carton and folded back the corners. "And yet, all I'm getting is talk and no action," she sing-songed.

Rick dug around with his chopsticks, loosening the noodles and fishing for a piece of chicken. He nudged her ribs with his knee. "I've heard you like my talk. In fact, I seem to recall –"

Kate pressed her fingers hard into the nerve above his knee. "Aren't those jeans uncomfortably restrictive?"

"Very." He dangled the piece of chicken in front of her. "Now, open your mouth."

He alternated mouthfuls, feeding them both, her head resting back against his chest, fingers drawing winding trails across his lower legs. His arm rested across her slowly filling belly between bites, and she took the opportunity to play with the fine scattering of hairs that covered his forearm.

Lifting the leg of his jeans she sought the skin above his sock, pushing her hand down to bury snug against his ankle. When another long noodle waved in front of her she tilted her head back and let him wind it down onto her tongue, closing her lips over the chopsticks, and then returning to her explorations of his foot as she chewed.

At the scratch of her nails along the inside of his ankle he flexed his toes, and the line of tendons across the top of his foot stood out. Kate tried to trace them, before hooking her thumb over the sock and pulling it down and off, running her nails over the pale skin.

"What if I'm ticklish?" he spoke with his mouth against her ear.

"Are you?"

"Hmmm. Are _you_?" Rick dropped the chopsticks into the almost-empty carton and tickled his fingers up over her ribs.

Kate bit down on her lip, her head rolling to one side against his shoulder as she held back a laugh. His fingers inched higher, prodding and tickling their way up her side. She squirmed against him, her writhing movements bringing her lower back hard against his pelvis. He pushed deliberately into her, and their barely tamped arousal flooded back.

Kate held firm against him, using her hands at his knees to increase the pressure, wanting to feel the press of him at the curve of her spine.

They both held motionless for a moment, the increase in the tempo of his heart thudding at her back, and the rise and fall of his chest, only served to increase her awareness of him. His fingers twitched at her side, so close to the underside of her breast. She wanted to take his hand and guide it to her, instead she waited, exhaling slow open-mouthed breaths as his hips began an almost imperceptible rock against her.

"Rick?"

"Hmmm?"

"Dinner's finished," she said, untying the sash of her robe and letting the ends fall either side of her body. She made no further move to separate the fabric.

Rick lowered the carton of food to the floor, his eyes never leaving her body. He slid his hand immediately under the gap in the satin covering her chest, his palm fitting perfectly over the curve of her breast, while his other hand embarked on a meandering journey to map out the valleys and peaks of her body.

Wanting to feel him against her, Kate turned to face him, cupped his face with her hands and kissed him softly. "Come to bed with me?"

With a final kiss Kate pushed up off him and stood on unsteady legs. She picked the carton of Chinese food up of the floor and sat it with the rest of the untouched remains of their dinner. Rick watched her, his hand ducking through the fabric that floated around her to caress her leg.

She grinned at him, held out both of her hands towards him, and waited. He linked their hands together before dropping his feet to the ground and letting her pull him up to lead him towards her bedroom.

###

Kate had to give up the heady warmth and sweet wetness of his mouth and turn her attention to the buttons of his shirt. Her own robe fluttered over hyper-aware nerve endings and she wanted to feel the heat of his skin on hers.

Rick let go of her hips long enough to pop the last of his buttons and wiggle his arms free of his shirt. Kate pressed into him, her relief at finally having him hard and hot against her momentarily dulled by the scratch of his belt buckle against her belly.

With his hands tangled in her hair, the softness of her breasts fitting seamlessly with the contours of his chest, she leaned her hips away just enough to fumble between them, undoing his belt and button and sliding his zipper down in a flurry of eager fingers.

He walked her backwards until the back of her legs bumped the bed, and Kate turned him effortlessly, pushing him back to bounce down on the mattress.

She let the robe fall from her shoulders before climbing over him; her knees pressed tight alongside him, spanning his thighs. She dipped and rocked her way up his body, bending to kiss first at his hipbone, then the trail of dark hairs that ran in a line along his lower belly, and up over the curve of his ribs.

Rick kept his hands light on her skin; allowing her progress up his body to guide the smooth caress of his hands down her back and over the flare of her hips. She'd bewitched him from the start, but as he watched her undulate her way across his body he was once again amazed by the many different facets of Kate Beckett; her undeniable strength, her vulnerabilities, her feline grace, taut muscle beneath so-soft skin. He'd never doubted that she'd be a passionate lover, but this particular side of her was something he wanted to explore much, much more.

Kate looked up from her appreciation of his form and found him watching her; the devotion in his eyes had the tension and desire pooling in her belly more suddenly than if he had reached out and touched her.

Supporting her weight with her hands pressed into the mattress either side of his shoulders she lowered her torso to lie against him, giving herself a moment to enjoy the feel of them together.

Brushing her lips across his nipple she turned her head to rest her cheek over the broad expanse of his chest. His heart beat loud and fast beneath her, and she felt her eyes drift closed, soothed by the rhythm.

He rolled her onto her side, encouraging her to shuffle up the bed, and pulled a pillow down to support their heads. They lay chest-to-chest, faces aligned, breath mingling, yet far enough apart to meet the other's gaze.

"Hey," she said on a whisper of breath, with a smile that sparked her eyes.

"Hey, yourself," he sighed in reply, finding her fingers and tangling them together, holding tightly, as they just breathed; soaking in the sensation of having their full lengths pressed together.

"I love you," she whispered, rejoicing in her ability to say it aloud, to let him hear the truth of how much he meant to her.

For a moment his eyes fell shut, and when he opened them she could see the effect her words had on him. She couldn't break away from the heat of his gaze, lost in the emotion that transformed his face as they rocked together.

With a gentle brush of fingertips across her forehead he smoothed the hair from her face, ran his thumb across her lips, and she told him again, whispering the words into the pad of his thumb. "I love you, Castle."

His smile stole her breath; the knowledge that she could bring him joy, that her words had the same power over him as his did to her, filled her with happiness.

Bringing him onto her, Kate lifted her knee to create room for him between her legs, kissing him deeply as he entered her, and they found their rhythm in a gentle rock of hips.

###

With a soft kiss on her lips he reluctantly rolled away, only to flop gracelessly onto his back. Kate moved with him, tucking herself against his side. Rick lifted his arm above her head, and Kate shifted to rest on his shoulder, her hand splayed on his chest.

"I think I may have overestimated my stamina earlier," he said, playing with the hair that tickled under his chin.

"What do you mean?" she asked, not lifting from her too-comfortable position sprawled across his side.

"I may have led you to believe there would be hours of great sex and, as much as I hate to admit it, you may have rendered me near-unconscious."

"But clearly not speechless."

His chest vibrated with his silent laugh and he rested his lips on the crown of her head. "Sleep with me?"

"I thought we'd already agreed on that?"

"Shush. Let me lay here with you. Let me fall asleep with you like this."

Kate knew she should probably go to the bathroom and clean up, should probably pack their dinner away in the fridge, even brushing her teeth would be sensible. Instead she snuggled into him, tucking her leg in the valley between his and exhaled deeply.

"I think I'm going to like sleeping with you, Rick."

A contented sigh was her only answer.

###

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><p>.<p>

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**A/N**- i hope that was T? gosh, i'm so bad at it! sorry. hides


	43. Chapter 43 The End

**Erosion  
><strong>No Barriers.**  
><strong>

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><p>Kate woke to the feel of him against her. At some point she'd rolled onto her back and he'd followed, his hand now wrapped around her breast, face pressed into the curve of her throat, his breath warm over her skin.<p>

Her dreams had left her feeling oddly jumbled; a calm sense of comfort with a nagging sense of something left unresolved. The reassurance she drew from his presence at her side, and in her bed, wasn't enough with the knowledge that there was something more she should do.

She lay drifting, her mind too tangled to sleep again, until finally her need to use the bathroom made her decision for her.

Slipping out from underneath him, carefully, so as not to wake him, she hunted in the darkness for something to wear against the chill of the night-time air. She found her robe at the foot of the bed and slipped it on before padding quietly into the bathroom.

Having freshened up, she glanced at him in the bed, sleeping soundly, and tiptoed to the lounge room. Tidying away their meal she found space for the leftover takeout in the fridge and got herself a glass of milk.

She stood in the kitchen, the hum of the refrigerator a background echo of the buzzing in her head as she looked across the shadowed room to the dimly illuminated shutters that hid her murderboard; the shrine she'd made of her mother's death. There were other things of her scattered about; books she shared with her daughter, the old tea-set at the back of her kitchen cabinets, photographs from happier days. They were the things she wanted to focus on. Memories of the life they'd shared rather than the one event that took her from it.

Kate placed her glass on the counter and walked hesitantly into her study. Standing before the shutters she ran her hand over the timber, let the bump of her fingers over the slats bring her awareness back to the now, away from a past she couldn't change, no matter how she wished she could.

Swinging both panes open she looked across at the photos and notes that had long since been etched into her subconscious. She glanced around her, down at her desk, and to the shelves against the wall, and found it; the shoebox container old letters and postcards. She'd find a better home for them later, but for now...

With a deep breath and a determined furrowing of her brow she stepped back to the board. One by one she removed each photograph, each scrap of evidence, and each unanswered question, and packed them away inside the box.

She was almost finished when she felt him across the room, and she paused, her hand pressed flat against the window.

He came up behind her, his arms wrapping around her stomach as he leaned into her back, and pressed a silent kiss to her temple.

They stayed like that, not moving, just leaning against each other, for several long moments before she broke the silence.

"It felt like it was time."

"It's a big step," he whispered into her hair.

"Mmmm, perhaps. But you said you had this."

His head moved against hers in a nod. "I do."

"And your board has an off switch."

"It does."

"Then let's leave it at that," the quiet certainty in her voice convincing them both.

Rick closed his eyes against the welling of tears, unable to remember when he last cried, and tightened his hold on the woman in his arms. "I love you, Kate."

"I know. And I love you. I wish I could tell you how much."

He sighed, swallowing against the rise of emotion. "You just did."

The. End.

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><p>.<p>

**A/N-** i think i actually just finished this whole thing?

I know there were lots of scenes that you asked to see in this (like a night out with Lanie, and Jim over for dinner, and other side-story sorta things) but it felt to me like the main story had been told.

If i do feel like coming back to individual scenes they'll just be little epilogue one-shots that won't have to follow up immediately... and i'll post them here so they're easy to find.

Thanks to everyone that shared this journey with me. A few people mentioned in reviews that they'd re-read the whole thing again from the beginning once it was complete! Wow! If you do i'll erect a monument in your honour!

If you have read this through in one shot PLEASE let me know what you thought... even if this has been posted for a while i would be SO SO GRATEFUL for feedback. The author alerts and favourites and story subscriptions are lovely and all but nothing compares to a review.


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